


Adjustment

by LallybrochLoser



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, chiropractics, chiropractors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LallybrochLoser/pseuds/LallybrochLoser
Summary: After a car accident, Claire Beauchamp, registered emergency room nurse and Scotland’s newest resident, is referred to a chiropractor for treatment. It’s too bad that her chiropractor, Dr. James A. Fraser, is the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. Or is it?
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 177
Kudos: 582





	1. Part 1

Just my luck. Of all days, this was the last thing I needed.

A bloody car crash.

My car was now a totaled mess, and I was officially going to be late for my first day of work.

Perhaps moving to Scotland wasn’t such a good idea after all.

The only good thing about this mishap was the accident would not declared my fault.

But as I got out of the vehicle to inspect the damage, the person who hit me started making it out to be my fault.

The only thing I learned from the twenty minute shouting the driver of the other vehicle did was that his name was Frank Randall and that he was “very late” for a “very important lecture” at the University of Edinburgh.

Well, good for you, Mr. Professor. I’m a fucking nurse. Someone’s loved one could be dying because I’m also late for work. Perhaps if you had put your mobile down for five seconds, you might not have shoved your engine block into the trunk of my car. But no, please, do go on about how you’re going to “sue me” for damages.

By the time the police had arrived, I was starting to feel the effects from the crash. My back and neck were aching something fierce and my head started pounding in time with my heart.

“Madam, are you alright?” The police officer said. Or, so I thought. Before I could respond, the world went black around me.

—

“I guess that’s what happened to our newest employee,” a voice called from the void.

“W-what?” When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by white. The walls, the door, and the surface I was laying on. Crap, I thought.

“Dinna get up just yet! Ye’ve had an accident, and the doctors doesna want ye to move.” The voice called again. Looking around the room, all I saw was the long fiery hair of a slender woman with skin as pale as my own. Looking at her badge, it read ‘Geillis Duncan, RN’

“Where am I?” I asked, taking stock of my surroundings.

“Yer at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary,” Geillis replied. “And I think ye were supposed tae be my newest colleague.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” I replied. I tried to sit up, but the hissing noise I made caused Geillis to push her back down on the bed. “And yes, I’m supposed to be the new nurse at A&E.”

“Aye,” Geillis smiled. “Dr. Abernathy should be in shortly, hen. Nice tae meet ye! Wish it was under different circumstances.”

Geillis left me alone in my room, pulling the curtain behind her.

I didn’t have to wait long. There was a knock on the wall just outside the curtain. When I indicated, a slightly older black man walked in.

“Ahh so there’s my newest RN! Sorry you had such a rough morning.” He said with genuine sympathy.

“Could have been worse,” I replied, feeling at ease. “I could’ve been delivered straight to the morgue rather than A&E.”

The man laughed. “True enough. I like your outlook. One of the reasons you got hired here. I’m Dr. Joseph Abernathy. Please, though, since we’re to be colleagues, you can call me Joe.”

“Joe, it is,” I said with a smile.

He was as thorough as I expected a doctor to be working in an emergency department. He performed a full examination, ran me through a few X-rays and CT scans, and did blood work just to consider all possibilities. When all the results came back, he prescribed me some pain killers, told me not to come back to work for two weeks and-

“I highly recommend you see a physical therapist. While your scans came back normal, there could be problems that develop as your body starts to heal. And since most of the impact from the crash affected your neck and back, a chiropractor will be able to help maintain those problems before they become permanent. I’m writing you a referral to a good place not too far from here. Be sure to see them as soon as possible.”

With this referral in hand, and my medication ready to be picked up from the in house pharmacy, I was discharged to recover.

Seeing as my 12-hour-shifts, four-days-a-week plan was toast, I decided to utilize the referral now.

Joe wasn’t kidding; walking out of the emergency department, I could see the facility directly across the street. 

**Fraser Chiropractic, Inc.**

I took a moment to read the signage on the outside of the glass door.

_Dr. James A. Fraser_

_Established 2014_

_Open Monday thru Friday_

_8am to 5pm_

_Saturdays_

_By Appointment Only_

_Closed Sundays_

“I’ll keep those hours in mind,” I said as I walked through the door and into a roomy yet comfortably decorated waiting area. It seemed the professionals at this establishment knew the importance of comfortable seating.

“Welcome tae Fraser Chiropractic. Do ye have an appointment today?” Asked a round faced blonde woman sitting at the front desk. The name plate in front of her read 'Laoghaire MacKenzie, Receptionist.’

“No, I was actually referred from the hospital across the street.”

“Och, aye. One of Joe’s are ye?” Laoghaire smiled and she took my proferred referral. She started typing in the information in the computer. Then, she handed me a clipboard. “If ye could fill out these forms, I’ll get this referral handled.”

“Thank you.”

Paperwork filled out and signed, I was left to the company of one of many magazines on the counter in front of me. Just when I was about to enrapture myself on the “20 top things to do before you’re 50,” my name was called.

The tall, broad, redheaded man who owned that voice, wearing black scrubs and red trainers, could have knocked me down with a feather.

“Claire Beauchamp? I’m Dr. James Fraser. It’s verra fine tae meet ye.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We know what happened to Claire before she walked into Fraser Chiropractic, Inc. But what about Dr. Fraser?

“Jenny!” Jamie called out as he stubbed his toe on one of his nephew’s toys yet again, “have I no’ told ye tae keep wee Jamie’s things out o’ the hallways?!”

“Aye, about as many times as I’ve said ye can verra weel pick ‘em up yerself!” his sister called out from the kitchen, his nieces Maggie and Kitty screaming for their breakfast.

 _“Iffrin,”_ Jamie swore, toeing the offending lego-built truck out of the walkway with the other foot.

It wasn’t very comfortable living at Lallybroch, his childhood home, with his sister, her husband and their five small children, but until his chiropractor business picked up a little bit more, he could not justify owning or even renting his own place in the city. It was too expensive and, even if he didn’t own his own practice, his personal finances were still rather tight.

He managed to shower and dress in his usual black scrubs, bearing the embroidered _“Dr. J.A. Fraser”_ logo above his left breast, with minimal interruption. He fixed himself some breakfast (a weird smelling smoothie with dark chocolate, banana, peanut butter, and a raw egg) poured the concoction into a large travel mug, packed up his gym bag for his daily workout at the hospital gym across the street, kissed his sister goodbye, and hit the road.

Unlocking the door to his private practice, he took a minute to soak in the pride of having the establishment. Three years. It had taken him three whole years of living at home, saving his money, and working under a more experience chiropractor at a rehabilitation clinic inside Edinburgh Royal Infirmary.

When the floral shop across the street went out of business, and that bland “for own or lease” sign went up, he knew this was his chance. He didn’t hesitate to inquire about purchasing the space. The asking price itself was enough for Jamie to pass out on the spot; he could have owned his own practice a year before!

But that just meant he would have money left over to furnish the establishment with everything he would need. Lobby furniture, exam equipment, an x-ray machine, plus starter funds to pay a receptionist a livable wage. He was thankful his home country ran medical insurance the way it did. He wouldn’t need to hire anyone extra to file claims on his behalf.

Another three months went by before there was a small ribbon cutting ceremony, showing off to the citizens of Edinburgh, and the world, that Fraser Chiropractic, Inc. was officially open for business. At his uncle Dougal’s insistence, he brought on a member of his extended family as staff. Laoghaire MacKenzie was a young and impressionable lass, but she had experience as a receptionist and would do well on the job. Provided her apparent wee crush for him didn’t get in the way.

Just as he was turning on the lights, booting up all the computers, and firing up the X-ray machine, there was a knock on the door.

“Laoghaire!” Jamie said cheerfully as he unlocked and opened the door for her. “G’morning, lass. Sleep alright?”

“Aye, I’m braw!” Laoghaire smiled, walking towards the area that led to the receptionist’s desk. Jamie didn’t miss the way she fluttered her winged-lined lashes at him, but didn’t comment on it either.

“What in our diary today?” Jamie inquired and, noticing it was eight o’clock, flipped the switched that powered the ‘OPEN’ sign in the window.

“Only the one patient, yer regular.”

“Ach, Mrs. Bug,” Jamie hummed. “Are the-”

“And yes,” Laoghaire interrupted with another smile. “All the claims fer the week have already been submitted and approved.”

“Well done, lass,” Jamie smiled. “Weel, if ye need me-”

“Aye, I’ll call fer ye, sir.”

Jamie smiled a bit as he walked towards his office and closed the door. Usually, between patients, he was deep in his own personal business.

His laptop powered in, he logged onto his account for the website “LoveInScotland.co.uk.”

Jamie was highly embarrassed that, despite all his achievements and success, he couldn’t find a girlfriend in the real world on his own. That embarrassment was heightened exponentially when his own sister suggested the blasted site. But so far, his choice for available women had grown considerably. He always had at least two dozen messages from new potential matches every day. So much so, that he spent every waking minute of his work day slogging through them. But lately, all the messages were from girls he just couldn’t feel that spark from.

He wanted the kind of love his own parents had. The kind that, from the moment he looked at a lass, it screamed “she’s the one.” That’s how his father had felt about his mother. And he believed in that with all his heart. He just...hadn’t found it yet.

By lunchtime, he had given his regular patient Mrs. Bug her usual weekly adjustment, eaten a hasty chicken and egg salad, and gone through all the messages without any luck. He was this close to closing his account and succumbing to being single forever. Maybe he just needed to focus on growing his business. Maybe that would entice a lass into his bed? He didn’t know. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he closed his laptop and shoved it into its case.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed. _What the devil? A new patient?_

_“Welcome tae Fraser Chiropractic!”_ her heard Laoghaire say to whomever had walked in. _“Do ye have an appointment?”_

_"No, I was actually referred from the hospital across the street."_

Jamie’s heart sputtered. _That voice._

He couldn’t place a finger on it, but something about that voice made him want to rush out and greet the patient himself. But him and Laoghaire had their policies. Laoghaire would handle the patients on the front end until he was ready to call them back and work with them.

So he waited while Laoghaire did her thing, all but holding his breath.

Ten minutes later, there was a light knock on his office door.

“Come in,” Jamie called out.

“Ye have a new patient, walkin’ in from Edinburgh across the street.”

“Aye, I’ll be right out. Thank ye, Laoghaire.”

He heard her put his new patient’s chart into the file holder just outside his door. Jamie shifted his mind into doctor mode, thinking about what he could be facing. This patient had come from the hospital across the street, so that meant it was a referral. He’d have to thank Joe for the extra business. Who else could it have been? And if it was Joe who sent them, and not someone else at hospital discharging someone who was previously inpatient, that meant they were coming from A&E. Which meant they were in an accident, and in a world of hurt. He’d need to utilize everything he had to bring this new patient comfort and ease while they continued to heal. He was the first step in that healing process; that always filled him with pride. He greatly enjoyed helping people. 

He straightened himself out of his chair, tied his longish red hair back into a ponytail at the base of his skull, grabbed the file from its holder, and went out to greet his newest arrival.

Walking into the waiting area, the sight of her nearly knocked the breath out of him. But the good doctor managed to keep his composed professionalism at the forefront of his expression.

“Claire Beauchamp? I’m Dr. James Fraser. It’s verra fine tae meet ye.”


	3. Part 3

I tried not to let the fact that my doctor was just too… _everything_ … to be real, consume my every thought and followed him towards the exam rooms. He opened the door for me and allowed me to go in first.

The exam itself didn’t take long, as far as my standards went. He obtained a round of vital signs, asked all the usual questions about my overall health and medical history. He even asked questions about, ahem… well, the usual things I as a nurse would ask a woman of childbearing age; which I noticed, rather bemusedly, my answers caused his ears turn a few shades of pink.

“So, Miss Beauchamp,” Dr. Fraser asked.

“Please, sir, call me Claire,” I replied before he could finish his sentence. I thought my hurried words might have sounded rude, but I felt too young to be called something so formal.

“Aye,” he replied, “ _Claire_ it is.”

The way he said my name…well, at that moment, I was just thankful he was a chiropractor and not a gynecologist.

“Sae long as ye agree tae call me Jamie,” he finished. “I ken yer age, per yer chart, but I daresay we both feel a wee bit young in years tae be addressed so…”

“Do you mean to tell me I can’t call you _Doctor Fraser?_ ”

That drew him up short, but he laughed. “Weel, I am a doctor…but I tend tae work wi’ adults more than children. Best fer both parties tae be on a first name basis, ye ken?”

I nodded. “I can agree to that. Jamie it is, then.”

“So, Claire,” Jamie went on. “I see Doctor Abernathy referred ye to my clinic. Why?”

The way his eyes bore into mine…I should have felt uneasy about how he spoke more with those eyes than his own words. But, for some reason, I began to relax in his presence. He just had that air about him. I could get used to this.

“I was in a car crash this morning.”

“Och, I’m sorry tae hear that, lass.”

“It’s alright. Well, actually it’s not. My car is currently at a body shop, and most likely will be declared a total loss.”

“So, there was extensive damage.” Jamie got up from the spinning stool he was sitting on and came to stand behind me. “Can ye remove yer coat fer me, please? Ye willna have tae take off anything more than that I think.”

I did as I was told, slipping the pale blue wool cardigan off my shoulders. He took it from me and hung it up on a hook mounted on the door.

“Imma get a feel fer yer cervical spine, keep talkin’ while I do though. Where was the initial impact from the crash?” I felt Jamie’s fingers lightly press into the base of my skull. I hissed almost immediately. Not a good sign. “Sorry, lass. That pain ye just felt. On a scale from zero tae ten, ten being the worst pain ye ever felt in yer life-”

“About a six, and right now, without you touching me, it’s lingering at a 4, radiating down to my shoulders at a three.” Jamie peered around to blink at me. I just smiled. “I’m an emergency room nurse.”

“Och, are ye?” Jamie’s brows rose in acknowledgement. “So ye’ll ken most o’ the medical jargon I spew out day after day, aye?”

I chuckled. “Yes. Maybe more, depending on what medical subject we’re talking about.”

“I can respect that. I considered hirin’ a nurse tae help out, in case we got busy, but wasna in the budget.”

I could tell by the way he said that. He didn’t mean to share that information with me. Maybe it was him comfort of being in the presence of another medical professional. I let it go and didn’t comment.

“Funny, if you were looking for someone two weeks ago, I might have applied. But, ironically, I was on my way to the A&E I ended up at after the accident. Dr. Abernathy was supposed to be my boss today.”

“Ironic indeed,” Jamie commented, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued his initial assessment. His fingers slowly worked their way down to the middle of my back. Without looking, I could tell he had very large hands. But he clearly recognized how big they were, and applied great care in not letting them keep him from doing delicate work. Like working with a damaged spine. “So, back tae the subject at hand. Were ye hit from behind?”

“Yes,” I said, the images of the accident coming back into focus. The shouting of the man who had hit me coming back into my mind. I shuddered involuntarily.

“Cold?” Jamie asked.

“N-No…I-I’m fine, really.”

He stopped what he was doing and came back around. I couldn’t stop my eyes from watering. When he turned away, I thought he was leaving. But he merely grabbed something from the counter. It was a fresh tissue from a box behind him. I didn’t have time to stop him before he lightly dabbed the corners of my eyes. When I looked up, he smiled a bit.

“Ye dinna have tae tell me anythin’, Sassenach,” he said softly, “but ye have my ears if they’re needed.”

Before I could stop myself, I unloaded on the poor man. I told him about the accident, in every detail I could remember before I passed out in that policeman’s arms on the side of the highway. I told about how Frank Randall had made it out to be my fault, blaming me for stopping too suddenly. I told him about how I yelled back, and that he was on his mobile the entire time. From before the accident until a towaway truck came for his car. How he told me he would sue me for ‘all my worth’ for making him late for some lecture at the university. And, on top of all that, I told him how it made me feel. Not just from the way Frank treated me, but how I woke up in hospital at the mercy of those who were supposed to be my colleagues that day.

“I think the most embarrassing thing was…” I breathed as Jamie continued to use his handheld chiropractic adjustment gun on my neck and upper back. He was somehow able to work on me and listen to me at the same time. I rather envied him that skill, a bit. “This was how my boss met me. By being his patient.”

“I ken Joe weel enough,” Jamie said as he massaged the area he had just adjusted, “he’s a good humoured man. I dinna think he’ll hold it against ye.”

“Well, I would hope not, considering he pushed back my start date by two weeks instead of sacking me on the spot,” I said, then grimaced as Jamie pressed into the middle of my back a bit harder than I anticipated.

“Sorry, Sassenach,” he said with sympathy. “ As fer this Randall,” he rolled his ‘R’ in such a way that it cause me to smile. “He doesna deserve yer sympathies. Ye were right tae tell him how ye felt on the spot. Some people are just wicked by nature. Now, roll onto yer right side fer me, please. Just like that. Perfect.”

After I did as told, he maneuvered my arms so that I was hugging myself, and twisted hip so that it was flat against his body. He placed the heel of his hand against the middle of my spine, counted “one, two three!” then leaned his entire body weight into my back. I felt the cracking before I heard it. He did it once more before I could even react to the first one, then released me.

“Ye definitely had some whiplash in the crash,” Jamie said as he sat me up. “The muscles all around her cervical and upper thoracic spine are knotted and verra tense. It’s gonna take a few sessions tae work it out. I wanna see ye here three times a week fer the next two weeks, see if I canna work out those kinks in yer neck. Sound good?”

“Yes,” I replied, standing. But I stood up too fast, and didn’t remember anything for the next two minutes until I saw that I was in Jamie’s arms.

“Sassenach?!” Jamie’s voice was filled with concern. The radial side of my wrist was between his fingers, and he was looking up at the clock on the wall. “Ye alright? Ye gave me a start there!”

“Everythin’ alright in here, Doctor Fraser?” Laoghaire had apparently rushed in, no doubt Jamie had shouted in surprise at my sudden collapse. I felt my cheeks grow hot as she looked down upon me in her employer’s cradled embrace.

“‘Tis a’right, Laoghiare,” Jamie smiled up at her, and I noticed he still hadn’t let go of my pulse point yet. “Stood up too fast, blood pressure dropped, and down she went. She’s fine, though. Her pulse is strong. Thank ye, lass.”

Laoghaire nodded and smiled at Jamie, but I couldn’t place the look she gave me as she walked back towards her office, shutting the door behind her. It didn’t look like anything bad, but I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as she left.

Jamie looked back down at me, and it was as if he was trying to peer into my very soul. Neither of us spoke, nor breathed any deeper than was necessary. He had me tight against him, the muscles of his arms barely contained within the sleeve of his scrub top. I could feel his heart beating against my arm, and it was racing.

Jamie broke the silence between us first. “Speaking of blood pressure, I’d like tae check yers ‘afore ye leave. Canna have ye passin’ out again on the sidewalk. Joe would have my heid on a pike!”

He chuckled awkwardly, but nonetheless I allowed him to check my blood pressure once more for safety’s sake. As he wrapped the cuff around my arm, fitted the earpieces of his stethoscope where they needed to be, and the diaphragm upon my arm, I noticed an engraved inscription upon the shiny metal.

_“To Sawny, Proud of You, E.M. Fraser”_

“Who’s Sawny?” I asked, looking up at him.

Jamie chuckled as he pumped up the cuff on my upper arm. “That’s me. As ye mighta guessed. It’s Gàidhlig, a play on my middle name Alexander.”

“Oh so that’s what the ‘A’ in ‘James A. Fraser’ stands for.”

“Aye,” Jamie hummed as he slowly released the cuff’s pressure. I could start to feel the brachial pulse in my arm becoming stronger as he listened. “Though, it’s only one of three middle names, ye ken. Was easier tae put on the door of the practice.”

“Charming,” I said, “and what about E.M. Fraser?”

Blood pressure check complete, Jamie slowly removed his stethoscope from his ears, his smile fading. “My mother. Ellen MacKenzie Fraser. She…erm…she passed away not long before I opened my practice.”

Instinct took over again (blast it) and I placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jamie.”

Jamie looked up and smiled a bit, though I could see it was strained. “Me too.”

“At least you knew her,” I countered with sadness. “My mother died when I was a child…if it wasn’t for pictures…I wouldn’t even know what she looked like. Or my father…I guess that’s why today rattled me so much. My parents died in a car crash when I was five.”

“Och, lass,” Jamie placed one of his hands over mine, holding it in place. “Ye have my most heartfelt sympathies. ‘Tisna easy losin’ a parent, let alone both.”

I smiled sincerely at him. “Thank you, Jamie. It means a lot. Truly.”

I looked at the clock and realized I had been at this appointment for almost two hours. My stomach rumbled and Jamie chuckled. “I guess that’s my cue.”

“Aye,” Jamie replied, though it sounded like he was disappointed in my leaving. “I’ll probably call ye either tonight or tomorrow…tae check up on ye, ye ken. I do that wi’ all my new patients. See how they’re faring wi’ the treatments. Sometimes ye dinna feel anything when they leave, and then yer back will be horribly pained fer hours later on.”

“Alright,” I said, and he walked me towards the door. “I suppose I should call myself a cab home. Seeing as I won’t have a car anytime soon.”

“Aye,” Jamie replied, as he gave me a moment to ring a cabbie. When the cab arrived, he opened the door for me. “Safe journey tae ye. Claire.”

I nodded, but before I fully left the building, I called out to Laoghaire. “Thank you for your help, Laoghaire! It was nice meeting you.”

“Aye, same tae ye, Miss Beauchamp!” Laoghaire called back, but despite sounding genuine, she didn’t bother looking up at me.

I went home that day, wishing I never had to leave Fraser Chiropractic, and the beautiful man who ran the practice.

Then, I realized…I left my cardigan in the exam room.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire goes back to work. However, her mind continues to linger with a certain red-headed chiropractor, and she’s not certain what to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, my goal for this series is that Laoghaire and Frank are the only bad guys here. And so far, that’s making the writing of it much more enjoyable xD LMK what you think!  
> Also, shoutout to everyone who suggested [redacted spoiler]. I had already planned on writing that in ;D y’all catch on verra quick! xD

The two weeks I was given off after the accident came and went, and one cold, rainy Monday morning saw myself on my first official day as an emergency room nurse at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. 

I properly met Geillis and my boss, Dr. Joe Abernathy.

And I’m so glad I did, because it wasn’t long before the three of us became a tight knit group of friends.

Adding to our small group was a surgical nurse named Mary Hawkins who, despite her slight stutter and intense trepidation, was one of the best surgical nurses I had ever seen work. Native Parisian Louise De La Tour appeared snobbish on the outside, but her gift was managing the obstetrical side of emergency medicine. And she did it with such grace. I may or may not have added her to a mental list of people whom I wanted to aid in delivering my future children. Were I have any.

The last, but the most unlikely person to be added to our fun little group, was another Parisian known as Robert St. Germain, nicknamed “The Comte,” for reasons I wasn’t sure of. We all just called him Rob. He had yet to tell us not to. Orthopedics were his specialty, and despite having an unkind, prudish face, he was quick witted and could make the most dour of patients laugh until they needed oxygen.

The six of us regularly found ourselves at enjoying a drink after shift at _Leoch’s_ , a small pub walking distance from the hospital. It wasn’t anymore special than other Scottish pubs in Edinburgh, but its only clientele tended to be the local medical professional community.

There weren’t many employees there, but that only meant there were less names to remember when you were too drunk to ring yourself a cab. The owner, Murtagh, seemed like he was allergic to smiling, but he didn’t need to in order to show he cared about his patrons and establishment. The bartender, Angus, always acted like he spent more time immerse in a party of one behind the bar, but he always delivered on the patron’s needs, much like his boss Murtagh. The plump yet grandmotherly woman who ran the tiny kitchen in the back with an iron fist was simply Mrs. Fitz. No one knew her real name, and it didn’t matter. If you were allowed to call her “Mrs. Fitz” and not “Mistress Fitzgibbons,” you were automatically family in her eyes and would be treated as such, whether you liked it or not.

“First round on you, Murt? Is it my birthday already?” Rob asked Murtagh in his thick French acccent as the older man brought us each pint of ale, causing everyone to laugh.

The crisp drink was a welcomed oasis to my parched throat after twelve hours on my feet nonstop. And I looked forward to a platter of Mrs. Fitz’s signature _“ashet of fried gigot.”_ Which was just a heaping stack of beer-batter fried mutton legs. Big enough for our whole table to share and not leave hungry, but tonight, I could demolish the dish by my lonesome.

“Nae, a tab’s already been opened. Sae long as ye pay ‘afore ye leave, I dinna care what ye do,” Murtagh looked like he was scowling, but I could see the warmth in the eyes.

“We wouldna have it any other way,” Geillis said, raising her glass towards him. _“Sláinte mhath!”_

“By the way, Geil,” Murtagh asked, but was looking towards me. “Where’s my godson been lately? Havena seen him in a while.”

Most of our group looked in my direction, which caused my cheeks to burn hotter than normal.

“Don’t look at me!” I protested, bringing my hands up in mock surrender. “I have no control over what he does after I leave his clinic!”

“Maybe so,” Louise chimed in, “but lately, you’ve been spending a lot of time over there, _cherie._ ”

“You’ve definitely been happier than usual,” Mary insisted, hiding her own rosy cheeks behind her mug of ale.

_The phone call I had been expecting from Jamie’s office had transformed into him showing up at my door later that night._

_“Doctor Fraser! Erm, I mean...good evening, Jamie,” I had said, wondering if I should be worried that he clearly went into my chart to find my home address. “I, erm...I was expecting my phone to ring, not my doorbell.”_

_“Aye, weel,” the young doctor was clearly embarrassed, his face turning red, the smile a giddy, cheesy grin. “Ye left yer wee cardigan in the room...I didna want ye tae trouble yerself wi’ findin’ a ride just tae get it. Besides, yer home is on the way tae mine. I hope ye dinna mind...and...that I’m no’ disturbin’ ye...”_

_I smiled at his sincerity. It was obvious he was more worried about disturbing my evening over the fact that he broke national privacy laws to find out where I lived. All to return my ‘wee cardigan’. My heart bloomed with admiration._

_“Thank you so much, Jamie. You didn’t have to go out of your way on my account. But I appreciate the sentiment all the same.”_

_I reached out to grab the loose weave of soft fabric from him, but the moment our skin touched, it was like an electrical storm passed between us. A lightning bolt shooting from his heart, through his arm, and into mine. It had to be since I felt my own heart missed a short beat. Did he feel it too?_

_We stood there for a moment, him just outside my door, probably cold from the rain, and me, all toasty warm in a pair of my best fleece pajamas set, complete with old-fashion darned socks and fluffy house slippers. I slipped the proffered cardigan around my shoulders._

_“Did you want to come in?” I gestured towards the inside of my home before I could stop myself._

_Jamie hesitated for a heartbeat too long. He was looking past my body and into my third-story, two-bedroom flat. I always believed I was frugal and practical in my interior decorating skills, but right now I felt like my home was the site of a hoarder’s cave, stinking and festering with bedraggled filth. I hadn’t cleaned the place properly in weeks._

_But he smiled, and gently shook his head, the red curls that hung loosely just above his shoulders bobbing around charmingly in the action._

_“More on time, I would, Sassenach,” he bemoaned, and I could see his composed stone face faltering. “But I’m expected at my...sister’s house fer dinner tonight. I’m likely tae get a scolding from her, and possibly scraps, but I’ll manage.”_

_Having the complete opposite of a stone face, he could see the disappointment written all over my own. His broad shoulders slumped slightly._

_“But perhaps...another time?” He reconciled with hope._

_My eyes must have lit up for a smiled so wide it started to hurt my face. “Yes, of course!” I motioned to shut my door just as he nodded and headed towards the lift just down the hall. “Jamie!”_

_He turned around, and the boyish grin that slid onto his face made me weak at the knees._

_“Thank you. For everything.”_

_A coquettish smear of admiration lit his face like a Christmas tree, and he whispered something akin to “aye” and was gone._

_My three times a week sessions soon turned into four when I came in one day, having slept on my neck wrong (again) and Jamie insisted on increasing the frequency of my visits._

_“We canna have ye undoin’ the work I’ve been doin’ on yer spine, Sassenach,” Jamie had said, a slight twinkle in his eyes. “I want ye tae start coming in on Saturday. That’s my ‘appointment only’ timeslot so I have the whole day if ye’d rather sleep in.”_

_I tried to protest at first, seeing how three sessions, in a way,_ was _doing the job and it wasn’t necessary, but in the end Jamie’s unwavering pleas won out. If nothing else, I enjoyed his company, not just as an acquaintance, but as a professional who deeply respected mine without being brash._

_So, that first Saturday, I showed up at one in the afternoon (apparently he suggested the idea of an afternoon appointment because_ he _liked sleeping in on the weekends) just as he was unlocking the front door. Laoghaire apparently only worked on the weekdays, so it was just us._

_Alone._

_In his clinic._

_“I slept a bit better last night,” I said as he opened the door for me, following, “but my neck still hurts.”_

_“I ken ye dinna like takin’ anything fer pain, but ye’d really benefit from some Arthorfen from the market,” Jamie said with great empathy._

_I just rolled my eyes. I’d told him about my general dislike for pain medication. Mostly because, the ones that were over the counter did nothing but add another substance to my body, and the powerful, opioid-like prescriptions either made me drowsy, vomit, or loopy. “I_ ken, _” I teased, causing him to smile._

_While our sessions were lasting their usual thirty-minutes now, unlike when I first started seeing him, unless Jamie had another Saturday appointment, we found ourselves typically spending the entire afternoon together at his clinic. Just...talking, joking, and generally getting to know one another._

_It became something I started looking forward to. He clearly did too as when I came in, he now greeted me with a hug. My usually cheerful demeanor at work had amplified considerably, to the point where my colleagues started noticing. Nobody said anything to me, but they all knew._

_Or...at least I thought I knew…what did they think they knew?_

_Two months went by and my days were timed by my visits with Jamie. From the time I arrived at his clinic for my usual adjustment, until I was leaving, my every thought started to be consumed by the tall, red-headed Scot. When I saw something that amused me, I would wonder whether Jamie would like it too. When I interacted with someone at work whom I didn’t like, my first thought was to text Jamie about it. But then I’d quickly remembered that I didn’t have his number._

_But that night at Leoch’s changed my thinking. When Murtagh, whom at this point I had already learned him, Angus, and Mrs. Fitz were distant relatives of Jamie’s, as well as Laoghaire, had asked about him...I went home that night thinking of Jamie in a completely different light._

_Was he just my chiropractor? Or was there something..._ more _...developing between us?_

_And if there was...how would that affect our supposed doctor/patient relationship?_

_No matter what positioned laid in, sleep did not come easy that night._


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last person Claire expected to see again ends up dead in her emergency room. Distraught, she turns to the only person who can make her forget. But will it backfire?

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You are a very brave young lady.”

I had just put the finishing touches on six sutures in a small girl, who had run afoul of her neighbor’s cat, tearing a rather wide gash along the ulnar side of her left arm. According to the patient’s mother, she was attempting to catch a caterpillar in the bushes alongside their house, when she was attacked by a usually temperamental grey tabby cat that belonged to their next door neighbor.

The neighbor had no idea the cat had even got out, and upon learning he had attacked the innocent seven year old, dashed to provide veterinary records that proved, without any doubt, that the cat was up to date on all his vaccination. So, after cleaning, numbing, suturing, and giving aftercare instructions, I patted the poor mum on the back and praised her for her quick actions.

“Now make sure you come back in ten days to have those stitches removed,” I said as they were heading to the discharge counter, and went to one of the few open computer kiosks to closed the patient’s chart.

“Another life saved by the illustrious Claire Beauchamp!” Geillis’ sly voice called from behind. I merely rolled my eyes in response.

“If _that’s_ considered saving a life, then so is telling a drunk patient not to lick the electrical socket in their room,” I moaned as I typed the pertinent information into my patient’s electronic records.

“Isn’t it, though?” Geillis quirked an eyebrow at me. Which caused us both to laugh. “So...any _plans_ fer tomorrow? Seein’ as ye’ll be off two days.”

If I had had time to think and properly respond to Geillis’ question, I would have told her I plan on finalizing the rest of my dirty laundry into the wash (when I told Jamie about my habit of not keeping up with laundry, he aptly decided to name the pile _“Mount Dumpus”_ which has caused me to laugh considering he had never been inside my flat before), maybe learn a new recipe and catch up on the many episodes of _The Last Kingdom_ I was behind on. But none of that was voiced because a trauma call paging all available emergency staff chose that time to cut me off.

Geillis and I joined Joe, Mary, and Rob in donning on our trauma personal protective gear.

“What do we know, Joe?” Rob asked just before tying a face mask on.

“Drunk driving crash, car versus a large tree, CPR is in progress, no ROSC yet,” Joe spatted out, and all of us understood what that meant: this was going to be a bad one.

We braced ourselves as we heard the ambulance pulling into one of the docking bays reserved for them. The telltale signs of a working code progressively got louder as the paramedics wheeled our patient into the trauma room.

The blood in my veins ran colder than ice water when I saw who they were working on.

“Forty-four year old male,” the paramedic at his head called out as he continued to manually ventilate our patient, “car versus tree, no pulse on arrival, we’ve been working him fer about thirty-five minutes-”

“Traumatic arrest?” Joe said as he started helping us to move over Frank Randall to our gurney.

“Aye, his car was barely recognizable.”

Joe instructed me to take over chest compressions, Geillis to take over manual ventilations, Mary was trying to find alternative IV sites, and Rob knew he wasn’t needed and therefore stepped out of the way to let us work. But we all knew this was just for show.

“Stop compressions,” Joe called out, “check for a pulse.”

I slipped two fingers alongside the man’s wrist. Mary and Geillis had both done the same for his carotid and femoral arteries. None of us felt anything. Not even a blimp of life. All three of us shook our heads. Geillis set down the bag-valve mask she had been using to breathe for our patient. It was the end.

“Alright, we’re done. Beauchamp, call it.”

My eyes bulged at Joe as if he’d just told me I had been sacked. But I composed myself as best I could. I looked down at the man who, not three months ago, had been a raging lunatic over a car crash that had been hit fault. I remembered, in that brief moment of looking at him, dead in my A&E, the amount of rage, hatred, and anger I had felt at the accident site when he went off at me the way he did. But after I woke up in the A&E, I barely had time to react or even think about the incident itself. Only how to move on from it.

Knowing myself, I probably would have fantasized all manners of ways I could subject agonizing revenge, sabotage in the worst way possible. I’m spiteful like that, occasionally.

But...I never would have wanted Frank Randall dead.

And now he was.

“Time of death, 22:45.”

I walked out of the room. I couldn’t stand to be in there any longer. I tossed my personal protective equipment into the nearest biohazard bin, went towards the locker room to gather my things, clocked out, headed straight for my now-fixed car, and just drove.

\---

I was functioning on autopilot without any idea as to where I was going, or even why. But panic seized me by the throat and I almost drove the car off into the ditch. I just walked out of my job! Did this mean I was gonna be sacked? I couldn’t think about that now. I pulled over to fish my mobile out of my purse.

There was only one person I wanted to see right now. And damn what anyone had to say about it. But then I realized something. I remembered something he told me and dug into my purse again. Bingo! Found it.

Scribbled on the back of a Fraser Chiropractic Inc. business card, was Jamie’s personal mobile number. He had given it to me after our last weekend session, with only a “just in case” as his reasons why. I hadn’t even had time to program it in yet. So with shaking fingers, I dialed it, praying to God he answered.

He did. On the first ring.

_“Ye’ve reached Fraser Chiropractic Inc after hours line, how may I assist ye?”_

“Jamie?” Despite my efforts, my voice was starting to shake. I didn’t want to start crying, but I couldn’t help it. The tears started building up outside of my control.

_“Claire? Are ye alright? Has something happened? Are ye hurt?”_

“I...I...Oh hell, I’ll just come out with it.” I took a deep, steadying breath before saying, “I need you. Now.”

_“Where are ye?”_

“I’m pulled off the highway, erm...” I looked around for a road sign, and found one. When I told him where I was, he laughed.

_“Ye’ll want tae take the next right, follow the road all the way until it dead ends at a verra large, three story, white stone house.”_

“Okay,” I said with some skepticism. “Where exactly am I going?”

_“Yer coming tae see me.”_

\---

Jamie wasn’t kidding.

Lallybroch as an estate consisted of the mentioned “verra large, three story, white stone house.” But the property itself looked like it was a farm at one point. Maybe it still was, considering there were stables and cottages behind the sprawling house where I could hear the distant bleating and mooing of cows and sheep. I wondered for a moment if he was a doctor and a farmer. But that thought was the furthest thing from my mind as I pulled up.

Jamie was waiting for me in front of what I assumed to be the front door, a worried expression written all over his usually-stoic face. He very rarely showed how he was feeling externally. But he hadn’t asked any questions about why I needed to see him. He just... _trusted me._ It was evident that that trust came with the price of uncertainty. Considering the first time he’d met me was as his patient post-motor vehicle accident, I can’t say I blamed the man.

He walked over towards my car and opened the door for me. I didn’t bother waiting, or thinking, and threw myself into his arms, bursting into tears. Wet, messy ugliness poured from my eyes like a leaky faucet. I knew I was smearing what little makeup I usually wore to work, but I didn’t care. I needed comfort. And Doctor (Farmer?) James Fraser was the only one who could provide it right now.

He held me close, much like that first time when I collapsed at his clinic. I could feel his warmth starting to penetrate the coldness of my grief-stricken form, his heart a steady thrum against my ear.

“Come inside, Sassenach,” Jamie said softly, “let’s get ye cared fer. Are ye hungry? There’s some leftover supper fer ye.”

It took all my strength to move from the spot where I stood, but Jamie didn’t let go of me as he led me inside the extensive mansion-like house. It was like a castle, judging by the main family room. I assumed it was anyway, considering there were childrens’ toys littered all over the floor, and child-sized Wellies in front of the warm, roaring hearth of a fireplace. My heart squeezed a bit. To my knowledge, he never indicated what his marital status was. Not that I would have asked, being as we were supposed to be professionals. But still, was he married? Was his wife home? Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t be a father. Was my sudden and abrupt arrival interrupting what little quality time he could be having with his children? Was he a single father?

“Ye’ll have tae fergive the mess,” Jamie said as he bent to pick up the toys and move to put them inside an aging laundry basket, clearly used as a toy box. “My nieces and nephews dinna like the task of cleaning. Unlike their mam.”

“So...” I said, awkwardly, “this is your sister’s house? Where do you live?”

I could see Jamie start to blush a shade of pink, illuminated by the hearth. “Here. This was mine and my sister’s childhood home. When my parents were both gone, it was left to me, but seeing as my sister is marrit wi’ five bairns under the age o’ ten, it didna seem right tae make this a bachelor pad. Lallybroch was built my our ancestors tae see families raised. I gave the house tae her. But...” he sat down next to me on the sofa. “When I was savin’ tae get my practice up and runnin’, it was more cost effective tae live wi’ them. I hold the deed tae Lallybroch still, so technically it’s my right and pleasure tae see who lives here, no’ the other way around, ken.”

“You’re a good man, Jamie,” I said. “I mean, clearly you are. You could’ve told me anything. That you were busy, or that-”

“Claire,” Jamie interrupted, softly but with a stern expression. “I’m grateful ye called me. That ye trust me enough. That’s why I gave ye my number. Granted, that’s my after hours line, but it doesna matter. I try to help where I can outside of just being a doctor. Now...tell me yer troubles.”

We eventually moved towards his study, on the top floor. Jamie told me that it used to be his father’s when he was alive, and Jenny, his sister, decided he would have more use of it than she or her husband Ian would. We sat on the sofa in there and I told him all about what happened, patient privacy laws be damned. I needed to get it out. As I talked, I became more emotionally unstable, and cried more than I spoke. By the time I was finished, I was resting in Jamie’s arms again, and I could feel him running his large hand across the expanse of my back, warm and solid as his strong presence was.

“I ken ye dinna wish tae see him die,” Jamie said in finality, “but, despite the Hippocratic Oath I took when I became a doctor, I canna rightly mourn the loss of a man who put ye in harm’s way. I’ll no make excuses fer him either. But...” He lifted my chin with one finger so I looked directly into his eyes, “what’s done is done. Ye canna change the past. Ye shouldna let this burden yer heart. Feel yer feelings out, then move on wi’ yer life.”

I couldn’t stop myself. Maybe it was the burden of the emotions coursing through me, or maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t look at Jamie and not feel the way that I did, but I forced myself up higher so that I could kiss him. His lips were baby soft, pleasant, and grounded me as they touched mine. I could taste a slight tinge of whisky and a stew of some kind on his breath, and it only make me kiss him harder. I half expected him to push me away, and remind me of our professional relationship as doctor and patient.

He didn’t.

“Sassenach,” he breathed as we parted, his breath coming in and out as short and lustful as mine was. He stared at me, clearly troubled on where to go from here.

I, on the other hand, became washed away by an immediate sense of shame. I pulled back and stood up. “Oh my God, Jamie, I-I-I’m so sorry, I-”

Jamie stood up as suddenly as I had, grabbed my head with his hands, and kissed me back. He was less gentle this time, and it only fueled the fire within me.

He weaved his fingers through my hair to keep me close. I snaked my hands down his backside and slid one into the back pocket of his jeans. I could feel what he _really_ wanted through the thick fabric of the front. The skin between my thighs were growing hot, tingly, and wet.

“Want ye,” Jamie huffed at my earlobe as his teeth fastened on it lightly, his breath growing faster and hotter by the second. “Want ye so much I can scarcely breathe...”

We couldn’t keep our mouths off each other’s, and I had a feeling I was about to go down a path I would never return from.

“Jamie,” I moaned. By now, I was pulling at his shirt, desperate to remove it. With or without his consent.

He looked up at me, and I could see the blue of his eyes were completely swallowed up by lustfully blown pupils. He was panting so hard I thought he was having trouble breathing. “Will ye have me?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. “Yes. Yes, I’ll have you.”

In two seconds flat (or what felt like it) he hoisted me up into his arms and carried me as quietly as he could towards what I assumed was his bedroom, all the while peppering my skin with fevered kisses. We were already pawing at each other’s clothes before we even walked into the bedroom, but when he shut and locked the door, he lunged at me with all the ferocity of a wolf catching his prey.

He reached into his nightstand drawer and drew out a condom.

“Canna ever be too prepared, ye ken,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Naked, and willing, I helped him slip the condom onto himself.

“Give me yer mouth, Sassenach,” Jamie demanded.

“Do it now,” I conceited, desperate to satisfy the ache between my legs, “and don’t be gentle.”

With a sharp snap of his hips, I cried out as the momentum slid himself inside me, and he swallowed those cries with his own mouth. It was like dancing. We moved with each other, syncronized and symphonious like two hearts beating as one. Our eyes never left the other’s for very long. I tried to keep the thought of his nieces and nephews sleeping within the house in the back of my mind as I felt that blinding white light of pure euphoria build, but before I could cry out in exalted beatitude, Jamie sealed his mouth over mine as we both exploded with ecstasy, bliss, and fulfilment.

We laid there for a long while. Neither of us spoke. He just held me in his arms with no seeming desire or notion to get up or even to dress. And that’s exactly how we fell asleep that night.

But before I drifted off, I spent my last waking thoughts on how exactly this intimate encounter would affect our relationship going forward, the dread of it keeping me from dreaming anything pleasant.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire feels like her blooming relationship with Jamie is a mistake. Most of her peers assure her she’s wrong, and that it’s fine. Keyword, most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another part? So soon?! Why yes! Yes it is :D BTW, there’s probably some utter garbage nonsense about medical shit in the UK. For the purpose of this series, it’s totally legit, alright? Lol. Enjoy, thanks for stopping by and let me know what you think ^_^

It was becoming troublesome for Jamie to focus on his work as a chiropractor. No matter how many patients he saw, treated, and helped regain their previous semblance of living, Jamie couldn’t deny the developing feelings for one Claire Beauchamp.

His Sassenach. His Sorcha.

The night she came to him and shared his bed was where it all changed. Sure, in his mind, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was quirky, funny, yet extremely professional. He never would have pegged her as someone who would cross the very fine line that separated doctor and patient from friends, or even lovers.

Yet that did not stop her from calling for him in her desperate time of need. And the lust that drove them to his bed…

“Are ye alright, Dr. Fraser?” Mrs. Bug asked Jamie, snapping him out of his reverie. “Are ye well this day, laddie?”

Jamie looked down at the older woman who was currently in the usual position he maneuvered her in to adjust her aging spinal column. “Aye, I’m braw. Dinna fash yerself, Murdina.”

“Och, it must be serious,” Murdina Bug said with concern, sitting up so she could take Jamie’s face into her hands. Jamie had known Murdina and her husband, Archibald Bug, since he was a lad. They were the first people to become his regular patients when he opened his practice. They were there when he lost both his parents. Arch Bug and his beloved wife were honorary Frasers, in Jamie’s mind. And ever since his mother’s passing, Murdina Bug had taken it upon herself to look after Jamie and Jenny as if they were her own kids. “Ye dinna _ever_ call me by my Christian name unless it was severe! Are ye fevered? Nae, dinna feel any such thing. Are ye eating weel?” She poked Jamie in the abdomen, causing him to start and stifle a laugh.

“My pardon tae ye, Mrs. Bug. I dinna mean tae alarm ye. I promise ye I’m fine,” Jamie tried to reason, but he knew from personal experience that nothing would convince the commanding matriarch figure that sat before him.

Thank the Lord, she let it go (for the time being, Jamie surmised internally) and allowed Jamie to finish his work with her. Bading her goodbye, he turned in her chart to Laoghaire.

He should have known from this encounter something was amiss, but he was a man. And men tended to be simple creatures by their very nature. “Are _you_ alright, Laoghaire?”

“Och, I’m fine, Jamie,” Laoghaire said, but didn’t look at him. Nor did she smile.

“Are ye sure?” Jamie inquired, looking at her with concern as he rested his hands on her desk. “Yer demeanor has changed quite a bit in the last several weeks. Ye ken, if there’s anything ye need tae talk about… I’m here.”

Laoghaire appeared to try and give Jamie her best, warmest smile, but Jamie was no fool. The lass had a terrible poker face and didn’t hide her feeling too well. He could see it now.

“I’m braw, Jamie. Thank ye.” And she went back to whatever she was doing on the computer, completely ignoring his presence.

Jamie let it go for now. He was a big believer in having “secrets, but not lies” and Laoghaire knew that as well as anyone. Whatever she was dealing with, he determined it was her business until she was ready, and willing, to share it. 

He decided to catch up on paperwork that only he, as the doctor, could do. He told Laoghaire as such and disappeared into his office, locking the door behind him. He made sure his young receptionist heard the distinct _click_ of the lock. That was their code for “I’m busy, please dinna disturb me unless the building is on fire, aye?”

While he did get some paperwork done, his mind continued to dwell on his brown haired lass.

\---

I came back to work following my night with Jamie worried to death that I was going to be fired before I even went to the employee locker room. But no such action came down against me. In fact, Joe had pulled me into his office and inquired as to where I went. I told him I went to a friend’s house, but my glass face gave me away.

“You went to see Jamie, didn’t you?” He raised a dark, graying eyebrow at me, but his eyes read mischief.

“Yes,” I confessed, feeling the end was nigh. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, I-”

“Claire,” Joe interrupted me. When I looked up, he had a genuine smile on his face. “Look, I get it. Sometimes you need that... _someone._ And sometimes, that someone is a person whom you _probably_ shouldn’t be getting it on with. But we’re human after all. So far, your ‘relations’ with Dr. Fraser have only improved your work and your demeanor here. While the hospital has a policy discouraging professional/patient relationships, Jamie doesn’t work here. I can’t tell you not to hook up with him.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“However.”

Or, maybe it was too soon.

“I will advise you to be cautious with what you do with him in public. Not for your sake. But for his. He is not bound by the same regulations you are here, but there are regulations within the different Boards of Medicine in Scotland that imply heavy and severe discouragement from doctors forming romantic relationships with their patients. I’ll make you a deal: I won’t say anything if you don’t make a big deal about it. Either way, I won’t fire you for it regardless. Alright?”

I breathed another sigh, but not from relief. That wasn’t something I had ever considered. How would this affect Jamie? I knew something of the Scottish Board of Medicinal Chiropractics. Jamie had to go through a lot schooling and even more board testing to get on. If they found out he was having sex with one of his patients, even if it was just the one time, what kind of trouble would this mean for him? He would definitely lose his license to practice, which meant he would also lose his practice. Something I knew he had worked so hard for.

I prayed both of us keeping our mouths shut about it would be enough to keep Jamie out of trouble.

“Deal,” I said to Joe finally. We shook hands, he smiled, and I went back to work.

“All well, _ma chérie?_ ” Rob snuck up from behind me.

“Rob! You gave me a start!”

Rob laughed. “My apologies. I did not mean to frighten you. But seriously. Are you alright? This is the first time in a long while that you have come into work without a big smile on your face.”

If there was one person I could not lie to, it was Rob. He was a walking, talking human lie detector. I swear in another life, he could have been highly successful as a homicide detective.

“Well, in a way,” I began slowly as we walked the corridor of the A&E together, “I feel like...like something very bad is about to happen. And it would be all my fault if it did.”

“Your _relation_ with a certain chiropractor getting to be too much?” Rob was teasing, of course, but it didn’t make me feel any better. He caught onto this and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I am only kidding, _mon cher._ But you should not let it trouble you. What is done, is done. And whatever comes your way afterwards, no matter how bad...well, surely a love so strong as yours and Dr. Fraser will not tear apart because of it, no?”

If what I felt in my heart for Jamie was true, then Rob was right. I could feel a strong bond between myself and my chiropractor. One that was different. It was unusual.

“I suppose you’re right.”

 _“Bien sur que je le suis!”_ Rob exclaimed, and I laughed alongside him.

“Thank you, Rob. You’re a good friend.”

“Think nothing of it, _amour._ ” Rob, ever the gentlemen, took my hand into his and kissed the knuckles lightly. I giggled at his blatant display of chivalry and curtsied before him. Just then, his pager went off. He bent down to peer at it and sighed. “Ah, as they say, _Je suis convoqué._ ”

 _“Que la lumière brille sur toi.”_ I said as he dashed away, impressed with myself that I still spoke fluent French.

\---

 _It isna fair!_

Laoghaire’s thoughts radiated rage and hatred towards her boss and his young, beautiful Sassenach patient. And her anger only increased as Jamie locked himself in his office until closing time. She didn’t have the chance to tell him how his closeness to Miss Beauchamp could destroy everything he’s worked so hard for before he left. He didn’t even bother commenting on how lovely her new work dress was either, the daft fool. She only bought it because it was his favorite color. She was _certain_ he’d notice!

Laoghaire never believed her sweet, handsome, beloved Jamie would be the kind to shag a patient, but the look of pure bliss on his face lately had no other explanation. She was thoroughly convinced Jamie and Claire were sleeping together behind everyone’s backs.

Ever since the day she first laid eyes on him at his home estate many Hogmanay celebrations ago, and he looked at her and smiled that million-watt smile, she just knew they were meant to be together. Despite neither of them saying anything on the subject aloud. Why else would he have had her chosen for the receptionist job exclusively?! It didn’t make any sense.

Something had to be done, the young receptionist just knew it. If her beloved boss was so enamoured by the Englishwoman, that he couldn’t see reason, she felt it was her duty as his future bride to take matters into her own hands.

_Ye canna have him, ye damn Sassenach witch!_

_He._

_Is._

_MINE!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bien sur que je le suis! = Of course I am!  
> Je suis convoqué = I am summoned  
> Que la lumière brille sur toi = May the light shine on you


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head for Jamie and Claire when Laoghaire makes her feelings for him plain and clear.

“Finally!” I heard Mary say behind me in the locker room. “A three day weekend! I’ve been looking forward to this since I started working here!”

“Not all of us are getting such a luxury,” Louise whined. “Some of us ‘ave to remain on call no matter what. There are plenty of nurses, surgical and not, for rotation to handle the gaps. But there is only _one_ obstetrician in A&E. And you are looking at her!”

“We’ll keep that in mind when one of us goes into labour at work,” I chided, causing most the women in the room to laugh, including Louise. “I knew that Scots tended to revere Robert Burns as some kind of Saint, but to declare it a holiday weekend? For hospital workers?”

“Aye, ‘tis a big deal here in Scotland,” Geillis said with a muffled voice as she fought to get a tight-fitting top on. “Hospital workers in Scotland have been tryin’ tae get out o’ work to celebrate Burns Night. But with the 25th of January falling o’er the weekend, I think the chief of staff found it was easier to give some the weekend off rather than deal wi’ multiple call outs.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” I remarked. “Give us some freedom while we still believe it’s theirs to give.”

More laughter rang out. I bade the girls goodbye, gave Geillis a kiss on the cheek, and found my way to my car. In addition to my appointments with Jamie, I was looking forward to gluing my arse to my couch while binging on all the shows I never get to watch during the work week.

—

Jamie walked into the clinic in high spirits. It was another of Claire’s therapy days, and he was looking forward to seeing her again. He always smiled more when she was around.

They had agreed, despite sleeping with one another, to keep whatever this was between them to themselves. Claire had explained her worries to him, and he took them to heart. He highly doubted that his actions with her as his patient would cost him his practice or his doctoring license, but he wasn’t about to suggest she was overreacting. Claire, from what he gathered, always acted rationally. To him, this scenario was no different. His heart leapt at the thought of her fashing over him like that.

So, for her sake and peace of mind, other than those who suspected at her work, neither of them had told anyone about their budding…friendship? Friends with benefits? Were they dating? Jamie didn’t know beyond the fact that he was _happy._

But the moment Jamie walked up to Laoghaire’s desk, his sunny side up demeanor changed.

His young receptionist had been acting more and more inimical towards him, and he didn’t know why. She didn’t say anything that would have explicitly spelled disrespect, but even Jamie had to admit she was tightroping a thin line between unfriendly respect and deliberate contempt.

“G’mornin’, Laoghaire,” Jamie said.

“Good morning, Dr. Fraser,” Laoghaire replied tartly, not bothering to look up.

Jamie sighed. Enough was enough. “Alright, Laoghaire. What’s up wi’ ye?”

Still not looking up, she replied, “I dinna ken what ye mean,” with too much speed to signify she understood what he said.

Sighing again, “Dinna play that angle with me, lass. Ye ken fine weel what I mean. So far, ye’ve been acting strangely, I’d even go as far tae say hostile, towards me and my patients. I may be willing tae put up wi’ some days of a foul mood, but it’s been months. And the patients dinna deserve that. A smiling face should be greetin’ them when they walk through that door.” Jamie gestured towards said door. “Yer the first person they see when-”

“Aye, fine,” Laoghaire interrupted, harshly, standing up in a flurry of blonde hair to glare directly at Jamie. “Ye wanna know why I’m in such a mood?”

Jamie was taken aback by Laoghaire’s outright bitterness, but hardened his gaze. “Aye, as yer employer, I think I’m entitled tae know.”

“I have been quiet about this, but I will be silent nae more!” Laoghaire all but shrieked. “Ye shouldna pursue that Sassenach wench!”

Jamie blinked, opened his mouth, closed it again. 

Then, he got angry. Something he rarely did.

“Laoghaire MacKenzie,” Jamie said coolly, but with an air of hostility the young woman had never seen before. “Ye dinna tae like the patients that come through that door. ‘Tis no’ yer job tae like nor care about them on a personal level. But it _is_ yer job tae treat each and everyone o’ them with the respect they deserve. Without them, ye wouldna have a job.

“As fer Miss Beauchamp,” Jamie snarled lowly, getting close to Laoghaire’s face. “What she does outside this clinic is no’ yer concern. Whether or not it’s wi’ me. And it’s especially not yer concern what _I_ do outside this clinic. My personal life is no’ yer business. Do I make meself clear on that?”

Jamie hated to make the lass cry, which she was on the verge of doing. But at the end of the day, _he_ was _her_ boss, not the other way around. Boundaries needed to be established and respected if they were going to maintain a working, professional relationship.

“But, _sir,_ ” Laoghaire managed to hiss through tears, clearly trying to regain a sense of fortitude, “ye can lose yer practice being caught in such a relationship! Ye can lose yer license! And, and, and…” she hiccuped and huffed. “Ye are _mine_ … aren’t ye?”

Jamie blinked, then laughed.

“Och, lass,” Jamie said through fits of giggles, “where in the world d’ye get that notion? Dinna get me wrong. Yer a bonny one, nae doot. But, Laoghaire…yer a distant cousin! Relative from my mother’s side o’ the family. And I’m a good several years yer senior. Ye…ye canna actually think-”

“That’s why I have this job, Jamie!” Laoghaire said, the tears trickling down her face slowly. “Right? Ye gave me this job ‘afore anyone else! Surely that…meant something…fer us?”

Jamie reigned in his emotions, shoving down the strong desire to start rolling on the floor laughing at the ridiculous notion of him and Laoghaire being anything more than professional colleagues.

“Laoghaire,” Jamie said gently. “I’m verra flattered ye think that way o’ me. The knowledge warms my heart, truly. But, no. I’m sorry, lass. Ye and I are no’ but colleagues. And that’s the way it’ll always be. In any case, ye have nae proof tae act on it were ye to report to the Board.

“Now, tae my knowledge, in addition to Miss Beauchamp, Mrs. Bug, Louisa Dunsany, Gavin Hayes, and…” Jamie had inserted himself between Laoghaire and her computer to go through the calendar application. “Harold Grey all have appointments today. I expect ye tae prepare their charts for filing, and tae give them yer best approach. _All_ of them. Aye?”

And with that, Jamie disappeared into his office, locking the door.

—

I arrived at the clinic just before my appointment, and was able to park right beside the front door. Given where Jamie’s practice was located, there were very few street parking spaces to utilize, otherwise you would have to park across the street in the hospital parking garage. Most of the patients who had to see practitioners along this strip made the investment of a parking garage badge so they wouldn’t have to pay each time they needed to park, and walk across the street. While my badge was the same one I wore when I was at work, I had no such expense. But still, it was nice to be able to park in front for once.

I walked into the clinic, I was the only one in the waiting area. I paid it no mind and went straight up to the receptionist’s desk. I could tell this wasn’t going to be a pleasant encounter as Laoghaire was as dour as ever. Had she been crying?

“Good afternoon, Laoghaire,” I said with as much nonchalant cheer as I could, “I’m here for my two o’clock.”

“Sorry, Miss Beauchamp,” Laoghaire said, actually looking at me for the first time in several weeks, “but Dr. Fraser had tae cancel all his afternoon appointments. Family emergency. He’s no’ here. Did…did he not tell ye?”

My brows furrowed at that, and I could tell she wasn’t very good at feining innocence. “What? No, I received no such notice.”

“Aye, I’m verra sorry, truly I am. We’ll see ye next week then?”

“Well,” I started, “you might, but I’ve also been seeing Jamie on Saturdays for additional therapies. It’s always just the two of us on the weekends. If it was a family emergency, he would have called me to cancel _that_ appointment too.”

That information apparently caught the young woman up short. The look on her face changed from one of little confidence to one that said _“oh shit.”_

Something was up; if Jamie indeed had a family emergency, he would have called me directly. Like he did all his patients. No matter how bad the emergency was. The clinic always came first. He’d told me that himself. So, either Jamie was actually dead in a ditch somewhere by Laoghaire’s hand.

Or she was lying. And badly at that.

“I’ll just give him a quick ring, yeah?” I whipped out my mobile and dialed Jamie’s personal number. I could see Laoghaire’s expression pinch into one of agony when we both heard the sound of Jamie’s ringtone resonate from his office.

_“This is Doctor Fraser, how may I help ye?”_

“Jamie!”

_“Sassenach! Hey, erm…where are ye?”_

“I’m standing at the receptionist’s desk at your clinic. But, the bigger question is, where are you?”

_“Och, then why are ye callin’ me?”_

I gave Laoghaire a look of utter offense as I said into the phone, “Laoghaire just told me you weren’t in today. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The Gàidhlig curses that came through on the phone were much louder in the building. The next minute, Jamie himself stormed out of his office to stand beside me.

“Is this true, Laoghaire?” Jamie said with as much contempt as I was looking at her with. “D’ye really just _lie_ tae keep Claire away? After what we talked about this morn’?”

Instead of doing what most civilized employees would do, which would have been to grovel at their employer’s feet and beg to keep their job, Laoghaire got angry, and lashed out.

“I was right, wasn’t I? Yer shaggin’ this cold, Sassenach bitch! Ye may as weel burn this place down! Ye clearly dinna care about yer career or work here! I tried tae warn ye, ”

While I wasn’t surprised to hear such vitriol coming from Laoghaire about me, it didn’t make her words hurt any less. Jamie, on the other hand…well, I’d never seen him so irate.

“How dare ye speak tae a patient like that, Laoghaire!” Jamie howled.

“Och, aye, a _patient,_ ” Laoghaire mocked with air quotes. “Sure, she’s a patient while she’s here, but she’s nothing but yer _hoor_ when ye go home!”

“Even if I _was_ Jamie’s _‘hoor’,_ ” I cooly snided, my eyes boring into Laoghaire’s, “which I’m not, I don’t see how that would be _your_ problem. Or, for that matter, your business.”

Laoghaire glared up at me. “I feel so much for my poor Jamie. Having tae share his bed wi’ a cold-hearted English witch.”

“That’s enough!” Jamie bellowed, and I was thankful in that moment there was nobody else in the clinic to hear him. “I’m no’ yer anything, Laoghaire, and ye ken it. I canna have ye talkin’ tae any o’ the patients like that. I’m sorry but I have tae let ye go. Leave yer key on the desk, and log out of yer computer.”

Laoghaire acted like she clearly didn’t see that coming. “B-But-”

“I dinna want tae hear it. I hired ye because I believed ye to be the best fer the job, in _all_ aspects o’ handling the front. Clearly, I was mistaken in that judgement. I want ye out of this clinic in ten minutes or I’ll-”

“Alright, alright!” Laoghaire shouted as she fumbled to remove her copy of the clinic’s front door key. She all but slammed her fingers into the keyboard to log out as per Jamie’s instructions, and bolted out the door without another word to either of us.

A few deep breaths later, Jamie took me into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Claire,” he said into my hair. I couldn’t help but hug him back, my fingers running through his own hair. It felt soft and smelled lightly of pine and lavender. He must have showered this morning as it was a comforting aroma.

“It’s not your fault,” I said back. “None of this is. But…what will you do now?”

Jamie pulled away, and looked at me with a great thundering storm of emotions in his eyes.

“I dinna ken.”


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Laoghaire’s departure, and what that means for Claire and Jamie going forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s probably felt like a million years since I last updated, but this series will be my focus going forward fic-wise. Thank you all for your continued love, patience, and support!

Jamie went home that night in a daze, emotions raging from all different corners of the spectrum. Anger. Relief. Worry. Love. 

The strongest being love. Love for a specific brown-haired Sassenach.

Anger and worry, however, were competing for second place.

Laoghaire absolutely overstepped her boundary and more than overstayed her welcome as his employee. But he also knew the kind of girl she was. She was a spoiled princess without the riches and title to go with it. She had been conditioned into believing that if she whined and cried enough, she would eventually get her way. She wouldn’t stop to think about her actions before carrying them out and would care even less about who she hurt in the process. It wouldn’t be the first time, and this incident probably wouldn’t be the last.

On the one hand, there was a part of him that was saying, _“go ahead, lassie, and when I’m done with ye, I’ll send in my uncle tae sweep up yer remains!”_ He felt a bit of pride in that. But on the other hand, he also knew the kind of man his Uncle Dougal was. Prideful, ruthless, and just as stubborn as most living Frasers and MacKenzie were, if not more.

If Laoghaire decided to spin up some kind of tale to paint him in a bad light, it didn’t matter that Dougal was his mother’s younger brother, he had a soft spot for the stupid girl and wouldn’t rest until Jamie was arrested or beaten within an inch of his life.

“Are ye alright, Jamie?” Ian Murray asked his brother in law and best friend, his brows knit with worry.

“Aye,” Jamie huffed, but it didn’t convince the other man.

“Out wi’ it, man,” Ian sighed, dragging Jamie into one of the sitting rooms with a bottle of whisky in tow. “Yer usually verra good at hiding how ye feel on yer face, but tonight is isna workin’.”

Jamie sighed, knowing him and Jenny would find out eventually. No point in covering it up; that would only invoke his sister’s ire. He just hoped it wouldn’t be through Dougal breaking down Lallybroch’s front door.

He explained it all, not bothering to hide details or sugarcoat anything.

“Och. Jamie ye canna be serious!” Ian exclaimed after Jamie was done.

“About sackin’ Laoghaire or the fact that I’m in love wi’ one of my patients?” Jamie mused, a ruddy eyebrow raised in Ian’s direction.

“Nae, I dinna care about Claire, though she sounds like a bonny lass,” Ian said, “but no. Ye really think that wee besom is done cousin’ ye trouble now that she’s been sacked?”

“It’s Laoghaire, and I hired her at the behest o’ my uncle, ye ken,” Jamie took a healthy sized drink from his tumbler. “I doubt the lass will do anything on her own. She’s never had the nerve tae attack on her own accord. Nae, if she does do anything, my uncles will likely be behind her, guiding her hand and mind.”

“Dinna fash about that, lad,” Ian reassured his best mate. “It’s yer word against hers, and ye were her employer. Ye arena the kind o’ man tae fire someone wi’out good reason. And yer a terrible liar when ye put yer mind to it.”

That got Jamie laughing.

“If ye really think yer uncles willna believe ye, a grown man wi’ yer own medical practice, o’er a girl who’ll be a lass til she’s fifty, then they’re bigger luggerheids than I originally suspected.”

Jamie laughed again, and he could feel his heart lighten as his mood lifted slightly.

Now all he needed to do was have a chat with Claire. The prayer he sent up to his Mam and Da was his conscience’s guide.

—

Jamie and I managed to get through my regularly scheduled appointment that day, but I could tell something was on his mind. He wasn’t distracted, per se, but he was definitely…elsewhere in the universe.

I went back to my flat that night in need of a good bottle of wine and an extra thick book. Preferably one I hadn’t read yet. Fortunately, with my addiction to paperback romance novels, I had plenty to choose from. I needed to clear my mind of what happened that afternoon. But no matter how hard I tried (or how much wine I drank) I couldn’t focus on anything but Laoghaire’s harsh words, ringing in my head like a broken record.

_“Sure, she’s a patient while she’s here, but she’s nothing but yer hoor when ye go home!”_

_“I feel so much for my poor Jamie. Having tae share his bed wi’ a cold-hearted English witch.”_

I didn’t really understand why I was so upset. Laoghaire was nothing more than a child pretending she was all grown up, and it should be left at that. She clearly didn’t know a damn thing about being in love. Nor did she understand Jamie enough to realize he was far too out of her league.

Then another thought struck me. Was _I_ out of his league too? We never really put a name to whatever game we were playing here. Was it a game? Was he serious about…well, me? And how did that make me feel?

I must have passed out on my couch at some point because I woke up my book on the floor, the bottle of wine nearly empty, and my head throbbing in time with my heart. It took me a moment to realize my mobile was ringing. When I looked at the screen, it showed Jamie’s name.

I internally composed myself before swiping the green checkmark button to answer.

“Hello?” I said into the phone, grimacing at the sound of my own gnarled voice.

_“Sassenach, can ye swing by the clinic?”_ To my horror, Jamie sounded upset. He was probably the most laid back man I had ever known. Could he want to discuss what happened between us and Laoghaire? Was he about to put my fears to rest?

“Of course,” I said, standing up to stretch the sleep out of my aching back. “I’ll have to clean up first, but yes I can come by. Are you alright, Jamie?”

_“Take yer time, there’s no rush,”_ Jamie replied, but the urgency in his voice told me a different story. I didn’t comment on it, though.

“Okay, I’ll text when I’m on my way?”

_“Aye. See ye soon.”_

I was already in my bathroom turning on the shower when he hung up. Within a half an hour, I was driving over to Fraser Chiropractic Inc. When I walked in the door, I took in my surroundings with a shocked look on my face.

There was rubbish everywhere. The waiting area had been turned upside down. Furniture had been moved around, magazines had been strewn on the floor, and Laoghaire’s former office looked like a filing cabinet had exploded. Sitting in the middle of it all was one disheveled, distressed, and aggravated looking Jamie Fraser.

“I can recommend a cleaning company so you can focus on the business,” I said, startling the red-headed doctor. Papers flew around him as he shot up like a cannonball.

“Sassenach!” Jamie huffed, “I didna hear ye come in. Sorry fer the mess. I’ve been…trying tae reorganize.”

“And how’s that coming along?” I couldn’t keep the amusement out of my voice while eyeing him mischievously. He glared at me, but only for a moment, his gorgeous chiseled face relaxing into a tired smile.

“None sae weel, I’ll admit.” He gestured with his arms at the mess he’d made. “Laoghaire made it look like she was verra proficient at her job, but she didna keep things organized like I instructed her to do. And she clearly lied about it considering I’d asked her many times if she was keeping atop it all. I canna teel what claims were filed and what claims were not, as the ones that arena claimed aren’t supposed to have the wee stamp on them.”

Jamie leaned over to show me some examples. Sure enough, claims that had been clearly processed with the NHS were missing the big red “COMPLETE” stamp on them, and claims that look like they were never touched did have the stamp. It was all very confusing to me, given I was an emergency room nurse and not an administrative assistant. This was absolutely out of my wheel house; I knew I would most likely not be of much help. The same obviously applied to Jamie.

“What are you going to do about this? You can’t possibly run the front desk and tend to your patients, Jamie. It’s all too much for one person.” I bent over the desk to look at what must have been Laoghaire’s scheduling ledger. It was filled for almost ever appointment slot for the week. “Jamie, you have eleven patients to see this week, including me, and I come in four time a week.”

“I know,” Jamie sighed. Then, it looked like a brilliant idea struck him. “What am I going to do, Claire?”

The look on his face broke my heart. He looked like a lost puppy searching for its mother. I was thankful he didn’t offer me Laoghaire’s job. That would be extremely awkward for one thing, and for another, I already have a job working in a completely different field.

Like a lightbulb turning on, an idea struck me.

“How about this,” I began, taking his hand and leading him towards the back of the clinic, away from all the clutter and mess. “I have some connections with the local hiring agencies in England, and some of them outsource their offices in Scotland. Why don’t I ring some of those connections and see about finding you a temp, until you can hire someone more permanent?”

The lightbulb in my head must have shone through him because his expression brightened immediately at my words.

“D’ye mean it, Sassenach? Ye’d do that fer me?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “I can’t have this clinic going under because there’s no one to handle the paperwork. Where else am I going to get my adjustments? And who’s going to do them with such precision and care?”

Jamie must have seen something in my eye that I didn’t mean to give, because before I could take a breath, he was practically on top of me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, drew me into his warmth, and kissed me with thorough abandon. I braced myself against his hips, trying to ride out this intense wave of pleasure coursing through me. However, when he started trying to take my clothes off, that’s when I felt a sense of shock I was not accustomed to.

“Jamie,” I breathed, though it sounded more like a whine. “What are you doing?”

He sounded exhausted and breathless, and I could feel exactly what he wanted through his scrubs even if I hadn’t asked him anything. “I want ye…want ye sae bad I can scarcely breathe…will ye have me, Claire? Will ye let me care fer ye? Ferever?”

I blinked but didn’t say anything. He sensed this but when he looked at me, his face fell.

“Jamie, I-”

“What is it Sassenach?” He interrupted. “Do ye no’ feel this…spark between us?”

I did feel it. I felt it like I felt anything else, but more intense. But…surely he had to know this was wrong? Right?

“Jamie…we shouldn’t…I…I mean…for God’s sake, Jamie, I’m your _patient._ This…” I took a shuddering breath to regain my bearings. “This is wrong. You could get in trouble. I’m not worried about Laoghaire, but someone else…who maybe doesn’t know you as well as she did…”

I could see his face falling further into a sorrowful frown. The last thing I wanted to do was break his heart…but if I was being honest with myself…

“I care about and respect you too much to let this ruin what you’ve worked so hard for, Jamie.”

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. If I hadn’t seen his chest moving I would have thought he wasn’t breathing.

“Perhaps it’s best that I seek chiropractic services elsewhere. I’ll still find you a temp to handle all this,” I waved a hand towards the front of the clinic in a sweeping gesture for context. “But-”

“Aye,” Jamie finally muttered. “I hear ye, Sas-…Claire.”

It wasn’t until he attempted to call me by my name rather than “Sassenach” that I realized what I had just done. But what other choice did I have? So long as I was his patient, I couldn’t truly be his. As a healthcare professional, I didn’t feel comfortable with it. But now that I’ve attempted to take myself out of the picture, would that be enough? Would he still want me if I wasn’t seeing him anymore for my adjustments?

Did I just destroy a good thing before it could even begin?


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things apparently happen when Jamie and Claire are apart.

_“The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please try again. Goodbye.”_

Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

I had tried calling Jamie a few times the following day to tell him that the temp agency I had ties with didn’t have anyone qualified to handle his level of administrative assistant work and wouldn’t for a few months while they were currently training new people. But after the third time…well, he must have blocked my number.

My heart sank at the thought. I felt awful for leaving things were we did. But if I was being honest with myself, while I _did_ respect him too much to let him ruin his reputation, I also wanted to give us some time to think about what we both wanted. Maybe Jamie was just lonely, and felt an attraction to me in a way he couldn’t get from a woman at the pub. Or maybe Jamie really was falling for me in that way that leads to happily ever after and sixty-plus years of marriage. But it wasn’t fair to make those assumptions since I didn’t _tell_ him that.

God, I’ve made a mess of things.

They say the greatest harm comes from the best of intentions. But if I didn’t know what those intentions were, did that make it worse?

—

It had been three days since Jamie cancelled all appointments for the next several weeks and temporarily closed his clinic for “personal bereavement”. Or, that’s what the sign on his office front door said. He had also had the office phone number turned off so no one would call the clinic by mistake, thinking it was open. And, perhaps the worst of it, he had made the painful decision to block Claire’s number for the foreseeable future. He’d seen that she had tried to ring him a few times earlier in the week. She had left a voicemail once or twice, but he had just deleted them. He wasn’t ready to face her yet. He didn’t hate her, and he wasn’t blaming her for anything.

He blamed himself.

She was one-hundred percent in the right to push him away. He knew better than to try and start something romantic with her while she was his patient. Perhaps he should have given her an option from the beginning. Offer to transfer her care to another chiropractor so they could continue to be an item. But sometimes, his cock was too stupid to tell the difference.

He was sitting in the parlor that was converted into a study room while he was in medical school on the evening of the fourth day, just staring idly at his computer. There was a knock at the door.

“Aye,” he called without much enthusiasm.

Jenny walked in, a slightly wet dishrag being rung around in her hands. She had clearly been doing dishes before going to see him.

“Ye got a minute, brother?” She asked, almost like she was afraid of him. That was unusual, Jamie observed. Janet Fraser Murray wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. At least from his perspective, and he towered over her by at least a foot in height.

“Fer you, always,” Jamie smiled warmly at her and waved a hand to invite her in. She sighed and sat herself down at one of the chairs in front of his large oak desk. “Are ye well, Jenny? Ye look troubled.”

Jenny sighed again and looked down at the rag in her hands.

“It’s been four days, brother. I havena seen ye this brokenhearted since Mother died. Ye used tae pour out yer heart tae me when ye were grieving. And I wish fer ye tae do that now. I’ve just finished cleaning the kitchen, and Ian took the kids out fer an ice cream treat. Ye can talk to me. I willna teel Ian or anyone else.”

Jamie sat back in the leather armchair and sighed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I’m a fool, _mo piuthar._ ” Jamie said finally after a moment’s silence.

“Weel, I willna argue ye there,” Jenny replied sarcastically, but a small smile was on her face so Jamie didn’t take offense to it. “What’d ye do now? Dinna teel me ye regret sackin’ that pompous besom, Laoghaire.”

“God, no,” Jamie had to laugh at that. “Nae, it isna Laoghaire. It…it’s worse…”

With Jenny didn’t say anything, Jamie continued.

“Ye ken about Claire, aye?” Jamie asked. Jenny nodded. “I pushed her too far. I…I really feel I’m in love wi’ her. The same way Da was in love wi’ Mam. But…weel, she’s a wise woman. She kent I could get in trouble wi’ the board and… ‘I respect ye too much’ she said…and she left.”

A few moments of breathy silence passed between the Fraser siblings. Jenny was the first one to break it.

“Since when have ye let someone teel ye what to do?”

Jamie looked up, a blinking stare on his face.

“The Jamie Fraser I ken wouldna let anything stop him from following his heart. From doin’ what he thinks is right. I agree wi’ both o’ ye. Claire was right tae step back. And ye were right on the money sayin’ ye were a fool. And I will admit, I have tae appreciate her tryin’ tae protect yer livelihood. Sounds like she’s gotta good heid on her shoulders. But dinna let _that_ stop ye from mannin’ up, apologizin’, and asking fer a second chance. If ye really believe she’s the one, brother, ye should give it a chance. One disagreement willna keep ye apart. It certainly didna fer Mother and Father.”

As his sister spoke, Jamie’s heart lifted with confidence and revelation. His sister had a knack for being the voice of reason in the Fraser household after their mother’s untimely death. And he knew she was right here too; nothing she said was inaccurate. While he will admit to his foolishness, he should not let that stop him from regaining the love and trust from his Sassenach.

“Yer right, Jenny,” Jamie stood up and swept his sister into fierce hug so fast she was lifted off her feet in a fit of happy giggles. He kissed her cheek and forehead with a gleaming smile.

“It shouldna be too late tae ring her now,” Jamie started, but was interrupted by a hard, loud knock at the front door.

As he was walking towards the front of the house, he couldn’t help but ignore the small seed of dread blooming in his belly. He was just too happy to get Claire back in his life. Hopefully for good this time.

All that was dashed away the moment he opened the door and saw who it was, the smile dying off his face, the seed of dread growing into a gnarling grasp of pure fear.

—

“Oh, come _on Marlin!_ You can’t marry Elise! She’s a sniveling bitch who just wants your money! SHE DOESN’T LOVE YOU!”

I was thankful in that moment of dramatic outburst that I lived alone, with very few neighbors around my flat. I tended to really get into the dramas I liked to watch on my days off. On this particular episode of the historical fiction drama called _Sea Faring Quartet,_ the main characters were trying to convince supporting characters that marrying one another was doomed for disaster, and the entire fate of the crippling ship they were on depended on everyone co-existing in perfect harmony, otherwise mutiny would set in. Sometimes it surprised me how much I got into silly shows like this. My own life was far less dramatic and one would think I wouldn’t enjoy such programmes. 

I had a glass of rhenish sitting on the coffee table in front of me, the telly remote to my right, and a slice of carrot cake larger than I would admit to anyone half eaten on a small plate. My show was almost over when the doorbell rang.

I ignored it at first. “If it’s important, they’ll come back during a more sociable hour,” I said to no one.

But it rang again, followed by a series of short, hard knocks.

Grumbling and annoyed, I paused the telly, put the cake on the table next to my glass of wine, and got up to answer the door. Who the hell was calling at this hour?!

My heart sputtered in my chest when opening my door revealed two policemen.

“Good evenin’ Ma’am,” one of them said. He was a tall man, but was clearly trying to rival his much shorter partner in girth. “Are ye Claire Beauchamp?”

“I am?” I responded, wondering what the hell was going on. “What is this about?”

“We came tae follow up on the complaint ye filed this morning. The man ye reported fer secual harassment has been arrested and is currently booked into jail. Ye dinna have tae worry or lose sleep on the matter any longer, Mistress Beauchamp.”

I blinked at them, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. “I-erm…there must be some mistake. I didn’t file any police report. And I was working all day today without my personal mobile. I couldn’t have filed a report on anything, especially something as heinous as sexual harassment.”

Both officers of the law looked at each other quizzically, then chuckled. I highly doubted there was anything funny about a sexual harassment charge, but I held my tongue.

“We were informed ye might forget, what with ye being an A&E nurse and all. Good thing we bought ye a copy o’ the warrant! Here ye are.”

I bit my tongue with their whole “forgetfulness” nonsense and accepted the proffered paper document.

My heart froze solid in my chest.

_“By the authority of the Scottish Police Force and on behalf of the sworn testimonials of Laoghiare MacKenzie and Claire Beauchamp, you are hereby to arrest Dr. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser of Broch Tuarach on the following charges: (1)sexual misconduct of an employee (2) sexual misconduct of a patient; (3) threatening or intimidation, sexual or otherwise, (4) provocating a hostile work environment (5)…”_

I couldn’t finish reading the charge sheet because at this point, I was seeing red. And I already knew who would go to such trouble to put Jamie behind bars. That lying piece of shit!

“Where is Dr. Fraser being held? I need to see him.”

“Madam, that isna-”

“THIS REPORT WAS FILED UNDER FALSE PRETENSES. SOMEONE IMPERSONATED ME AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHO. I WAS NEVER SEXUALLY HARASSED OR ANYWHERE NEAR IT. NOW EITHER YOU WILL TAKE ME TO WHERE DOCTOR FRASER IS OR I WILL WALK THERE MYSELF. TAKE YOUR PICK!”

My chest was heaving by the time I was done. I didn’t lose my temper very easily or often; it takes a lot to get under my skin and even more than that to cause such a violently loud outburst. But, damnit no one should ever have to deal with a false accusation such as this. Things like that can easily ruin a man’s entire life, and Jamie had been nothing but kind, considerate, and gentle with me. This had to be Laoghaire. There’s no one else. And I swore by all that was holy and good, I would see the wicked child suffer for all she isn’t worth.

I felt bad for raising my voice at the officers; they were just doing their jobs and probably were not the ones who directly arrested Jamie. They were kind enough to not only give me a ride to the police station, but they gave me ample time to get ready to go (seeing as I answered the door in my pyjamas).

So, it was at almost eleven o’clock at night where I found myself sitting in the back of a patrol car, lights and sirens blaring, thinking about how I was going to get Jamie out of this situation, and how I was going to make Laoghaire pay for her crimes.

And it all started with the arrest warrant in my hands.


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire urgently rushes to Jamie’s rescue. Was Laoghaire as good at being as receptionist as Jamie originally thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that I am no expert on law, especially in a country I’m not native to. So, expect the legal explanations of everything here to be 100% garbage to the real world and 100% canon to this story :)

“I am telling you, _sir,_ I need to speak with whoever is in charge of the James Fraser case because someone swore a false accusation against this man claiming to be me!”

I had only been at the police station for five minutes and I was already running into the infamous red tape. I was fuming; I probably would have had steam pouring out of my ears were this world an animated comedy special.

“Now there’s no need tae get heated-” the little man sitting at the front desk began, but I was having none of his stammering reasons to keep me from the detective.

“I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE-”

“You’re here for the James Fraser case?” A curious voice called from behind. It came from a short, thin man clearly of Chinese origin. He wasn’t put off by my visible seething as he stepped forward and offered me his hand. “Detective Tien Willoughby, madam. And you are?”

I took a breath, feeling some of my anger fade away with the escaping carbon dioxide from my lungs. “Claire Beauchamp. You are in charge of this case?”

“I am,” the Chinee said. He angled his head from around my person to look at the man sitting at the desk, clearly unaccustomed to being dismissed. “It’s alright, Martin. I can take it from here.”

I followed Mr. Willoughby passed the endless rows of cubicles being occupied by various uniformed officers doing paperwork. He led me towards a private office and offered me one of two leathered seat in front of a wide desk. I sat down while he offered to grab me a coffee from the breakroom. From behind the desk, I saw a larger, leather swivel chair poised itself in front of a desktop. Behind that, I could see various framed personal family photos. There were at least two kids smiling and laughing in some of the frames, another few had what I assumed to be Mrs. Willoughby, equally as happy as the photographed children by his side.

“My wife and sons,” I heard him say behind me as he handed me the coffee. I nodded my thanks as I took a sip. It wasn’t the best I’d ever had, but it warmed my freezing bones wonderfully. He sat down at the large desk and swiveled around to look at the pictures. “I owe a lot of my success to them. My wife, Wan-Mei, especially.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman. I can’t imagine this job being easy,” I replied, taking another long sip of coffee. The more I drank, the better it tasted. “I have to ask though. And, forgive my ignorance if it comes off as such, but where did the name ‘Willoughby’ come from?”

He laughed at that, probably because I wasn’t the first person to ask. “My stepfather’s name was Arnold Willoughby. I was born Yi Tien Cho. After my mother and birth father immigrated from China to England when I was baby, he die from illness. My mother remarried a wonderful man. In my mind, I always consider Arnold my father. When I became of age, I change name to ‘Yi Tien Willoughby’. Everyone here in the UK call me ‘Tien’ for short. He die few years ago, before my second son was born.” 

His story fascinated me. A tale of love and heartbreak, with a happily-ever-after ending. I secretly hoped that would be in the cards for myself. Myself and Jamie.

“I’m sorry for your losses, but I am happy for you. It’s always a good thing to have right people beside you. Which is why I’m here. There’s been a huge mistake, and I’m here to fix it.”

“Ahh, yes,” Detective Willoughby sat his coffee cup down and opened a file cabinet that was imbedded in the desk. He took out a brown folder bearing a case number I couldn’t read on it. “You claim that someone submitted a false testimony on your behalf?”

“Yes,” I said, and I went through explaining all that I had did prior to the police showing up at my door tonight. The more I said, the more the detective became confused, then agitated. He was looking through the papers within the brown file, and his apparent agitation only grew. I could tell that this was going to go in my favour.

“I see,” he finally said after I was done. “A most grave error on the part of the officers here, and for that, you have my sincerest apologies. But, for something like this, an apology will not be enough, yes?”

He reached for the telephone receiver on his desk and dialed a number.

“Good evening, sir, this is Detective Yi Tien Willoughby, badge number 045268. I am in charge of case number 083-135795. I need you release the accused at once…yes…yes, you heard right…I don’t care what time it is, make it happen!”

A longer paused followed as Willoughby looked at me and rolled his eyes, bringing a hand up to mimic someone talking too much. I suppressed a giggle.

“Thank you, sir…yes…no that will be all…send him directly to my office. No handcuffs or restraints, the man you’re bringing to me is innocent and I will have him treated as such or someone will be sacked…Mhmm.” He hung up the phone, and looked at me. “Mr. Fraser has been released and will be here shortly. Now, I bet you’re wondering why I just had him released without even trying to affirm the truthfulness of your story, eh?”

“I did find that to be a bit odd, yes,” I confirmed.

“In Scotland, the person who files an accusation of this nature can only speak for themselves, unless they have a sworn affidavit from a local magistrate where the crime took place. The person who swore such a testimony presented an affidavit to the responding officer, but…”

He took a piece of paper from the file and handed it to me.

Looking it over, I could see a few glaring errors on it. One of which being the signature that was supposed to look like mine. While whoever wrote this definitely tried to pass it off as my hand, but there was a certain way I wrote “Beauchamp” in my signature. The “B” always looked like a an “8” but written with a calligraphy pen no matter what writing instrument I was holding. And I always extended the tail on the “e” at the end of “Claire” so I could cross it to make it look like an “x” signifying love. The original writer tried to replicate those little discrepancies in my signature, but I had many years of practice, while this person was too slow in their deliberate copying.

“Your signature does indeed look like you signed it yourself, were you wearing a plaster cast on your arm,” Willoughby said, and we both chuckled. “But here’s the thing: if the person using an affidavit to bring accusations to one person on behalf of many people, a signature is not required. That’s the whole point of the affidavit.

“Also, a magistrate uses a very specific type of ink when stamping the decree so it can show up under ultraviolet light. It is required by law otherwise the entire article is invalid. This stamp ink did not reflect green and blue under UV lighting, but red. I found one other discrepancy: the magistrate who supposedly sign this is indeed a magistrate under the Crown, but they are located in Ireland, not Scotland.”

By this point, I was no longer listening to the detective. All I saw was red again once I saw the neat, rounded edges of the signature belonging to Laoghaire MacKenzie.

“I knew it was her.”

“I’m sorry?”

I looked up, my face contorted with anger. “This woman. Laoghaire MacKenzie. She was the receptionist at Jamie’s chiropractor clinic. I am, I…was his patient until recently. Laoghaire had made unwanted advances towards Jamie, going so far as to lie about where he was the day of one of my appointments. He sacked her on the spot.”

The detective hummed in acknowledgement.

“The real question is…how did she know about my signature, and all the little things I do to make it unique? I’ve never signed anything in front of her, and even if I did…they were all NHS forms and the like. You can’t regain access to those old forms without written consent from the patient. I would know, I’m an emergency room nurse at the hospital across the street from the clinic.”

Before Willoughby could answer, there was a knock at the door. I turned in my seat, and my heart lifted at the sight of the tall, red-headed figure from the glass. The door opened and Jamie walked in and straight into my arms.

“Jamie!” I breathed as he crushed the breath out of my lungs with his bruising hug. I didn’t think I would ever miss that, despite it not even been a week since we last parted.

“Sassenach,” he said into my hair. “I feared I’d lost ye fer good.”

“Mr. Fraser, please do sit down,” Willoughby offered Jamie the chair next to mine. We awkwardly broke apart and sat down. “May I offered you a coffee?”

“No thank ye, sir,” Jamie replied. “I’m happy enough tae be out o’ that reekin’ tank of a cell.”

“As I was just telling Miss Beauchamp, I severely apologise for the unlawful handling of this situation. Now that you are here, we can move forward with rectifying it.”

“So, it was illegal?” Jamie asked, wide eyes going from the detective to me. “I kent weel, but tae hear it from a decent man o’ the law…”

“Three guesses who done it,” I added dryly.

“Aye,” he growled, and I couldn’t help the small grin that slid into position on my face.

Detective Willoughby went about explaining all the ways the so-called “warrant” was invalid. From what time I spent with Jamie, I knew he was an expert as masking how he truly felt on his face. In that moment, however, I could see the relief washing over him like warm bath water.

“I ken the lass ye speak of,” Jamie confirmed my story by stating Laoghaire had falsified a sexual harassment accusation against him. “I always knew she was a brasen besom, but this has gone too far. I could’ve lost my practicing license if not fer Claire here.”

Willoughby took out two fresh sheets of paper and slid them towards us, one for each. “I am going to get a statement from both of you, swearing testimony that both of you affirm these charges to be false. You don’t need to go into too much detail here,” he pointed towards the small box labeled ‘description of complaint’, “just a few sentences will suffice.”

Jamie and I both spent the next ten minutes filling out the paperwork that would release Jamie from this hell he had found himself in, both of us confirming everything and signing the bottom. I’d forgotten how long Jamie’s full name was, and chuckled slightly as he tried to fit it all on the line. I signed mine at the bottom and we handed them back to the detective.

He picked up my sworn statement, and the fake affidavit, to compare. Then he looked over Jamie’s before giving us a satisfied grin.

“Did either of you have any questions before you leave? You are _both_ free to go,” Willoughby inclined his head to Jamie.

A beat of silence followed before I said, “I do have one…concern…”

I hesitated. I knew it was nothing more than an assumption. As angry as I was with Laoghiare, and as much as I wanted to make her suffer, I was always logical before I was vengeful. The last thing I wanted was to accuse her of something she didn’t do. And with what I was thinking of…it would ruin her life.

“Speak yer mind, Sassenach. No one will harm ye.”

Armed with a sudden rush of confidence, I took a deep breath.

“There’s only one way Laoghaire could have obtained my exact signature in order to forge it. Through my medical records and insurance forms. You know the ones? I signed them the day I started coming to your practice.”

Realization dawned on Jamie, and I could sense, rather than see, that all-too-familiar cold sense of dread consume him.

Jamie looked at Willoughby with a look that could have killed.

“Who do I need tae speak tae about investigating fraud?”

—

Jamie was adamant about Claire coming back to Lallybroch with him the night they left the police station.

“The countryside air will do ye good, Sassenach,” Jamie had assured her on the taxi ride back to his childhood home.

The last time Claire had come to see him, the night had ended with her in his bed, a willing participant in his more baser, instinctual needs. He sometimes cringed at the thought of them haxing sex while his sister and her family were sleeping, but he didn’t regret it. The moment she started crying in his arms, he knew right then and there.

_This was the one._

Too tired and emotionally drained to argue, Claire had followed Jamie towards the waiting taxi and they made their way to Lallybroch.

Paying the cabbie, he helped her out of the car and they made their way towards the entryway.

Jenny met them at the door.

“Welcome home, brother,” Jenny said as she brought the much taller man down into her bosom for a hug. When she stood back up again, she looked Claire up and down. Jamie bit his tongue, hoping that Jenny would be nice.

“Jenny, this is Claire. Claire, my sister. Jenny Fraser Murray.”

Jamie could see Claire stiffen across from him, but he could feel his sister’s radiant warmth envelop them both before the smaller woman reached out to offer Claire a hug of her own.

“I kent my brother wouldna let some daft wench keep him from what he wanted,” Jenny said with a smile, causing Claire to smile back. “Welcome to Lallybroch, Claire. Tis gud tae have ye here wi’ us. Make yerself at home. I’ll see to it that we getta room ready fer ye. Supper’s still warm on the stove if either o’ ye are hungry.”

Jamie and Claire indulged themselves in a heaping pile of beef and vegetable strew and homemade dumplings, talking about anything and everything. Except the events of the last few days. Both of them knew, eventually, they were going to have to sit down and discuss…well…them…and where they stood. But tonight was all about recuperating from the harrowing experience of Jamie’s unlawful arrest and damning accusations.

Claire ended up staying at Lallybroch for two weeks, making the occasional trip back to her flat for clothes, toiletries, and the like. Jamie kept the clinic closed as agents of the Crown were combing through it for evidence of fraud.

Claire flourished at Lallybroch, much to Jamie’s surprise. She took it upon herself to prune and trim his mother’s rose garden that gathered at the front of the property. Everyone was in awe at how much more life had been breathed into the bright yellow flowers, especially Jamie. By this time, Ian had officially met Claire and Jamie usually found the two of them hanging out together in the main foyer after dinner. Claire tried to insist on helping Jenny with housework, like dishes or generalized cleaning, but Jenny wouldn’t hear a word of it.

“As long as ye keep yer room from becomin’ a fire hazard, then it’s one less room tae be cleaned by me, aye?”

What struck Jamie with the most sense of awe and admiration was how well Claire got along with Jenny and Ian’s children. Especially his namesake nephew, wee Jamie.

Claire was a very versatile woman: if she wasn’t tending to the gardens outside, she was playing dollies with Maggie and Kitty, or spaceship pirate with wee Jamie, Michael and wee Ian. If she wasn’t singing the bairns silly nursery rhyme songs, she was reading from one of the many thick, leather-bound philosophical books that belong to Jamie’s father, Brian.

Each day that Claire was with Jamie at Lallybroch drove him deeper in love with her.

Two weeks after coming to stay with Jamie and his family, the big news came in the form of a knock at the door.

“Detective!” Jamie smiled, welcoming the Chinese officer of the law into his home. “Welcome. Please, come in.”

The detective took Jamie’s offer and stepped through the threshold.

“Would ye like a refreshment? My sister’s made a fresh batch o’ raspberry tea and lemon scones.”

“I thank you for the offer, but I must decline. Is it possible for you to ring Miss Beauchamp and have her join us? This business I bring to you regards you both.”

“No need tae ring her,” Jamie said with a smile.

“What about me?” Claire was coming down the stairs in a light blue knitted sweater, jeans, white socks and a damp towel around her neck. She clearly just got out of the shower. She froze when she saw Detective Willoughby sitting in the front parlor.

“Erm…good day to you, Miss Beauchamp,” the detective stood up as she entered and bowed to her.

“Good day,” she replied. Jamie could hear the suspicion in her voice. As if to wordlessly say _what’s he doing here?_

Jamie just shrugged. “What business d’ye have fer us today, Detective Willoughby?”

“Some of it is good news,” the detective began, but his tone drifted into weariness as he finished with, “but not all of it.”

Jamie and Claire exchanged grim looks as they both sat down. Jamie’s heart was pounding with anxiety. Was his sworn statement not accepted? Did Laoghaire somehow cook up some concrete proof of her claims against him? Was he about to go back to jail for a crime he didn’t commit? Was he about to lose his license? And what of his clinic? He hadn’t even had a chance to properly open it back up. Would he ever?

His worries were unfounded. The bad news was for Claire.

And it turned her world upside down.


	11. Part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire’s news weighs heavily on her mind and her heart. Good thing she has friends, and something more: family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that the comments section for this series has been disabled.
> 
> Well.   
> Lemme tell y'all about it.
> 
> While I appreciate, acknowledge, and thank those who read through and feel the need to educate me on things I may or may not be ignorant on, I do take those into account for future writings and consider it growing as a writer.  
> HOWEVER.  
> I do NOT appreciate nor will I tolerate being insulted, vilified, or spammed with the same comment over and over again. This series is already written in its entirety. Once it's published, that's it. I do not go back and do edits or revisions. I never have and I never will. That is how I grow as a writer. I occasionally go back and reread my old Supernatural fanfiction to revel in exactly how much I've grown as a writer over the last 20 odd years or so. How can I do that if I go back and remove mistakes? Simple. I can't. And I refuse to change how I do things just because someone doesn't like it.
> 
> If that is not to your liking, you're entitled to that opinion. One that I do not share. But thanks to a few anons who decided I wasn't doing what they wanted when they wanted it, they reduced themselves to foaming, screeching antagonists with nothing but contempt for my work and I will not have it. I almost decided to discontinue this series. But I'm stronger than that. Those of you who absolutely want to see it through to the end deserve more than that. And you shall have it.
> 
> So, comments are turned off. Permanently.   
> I hate to punish all readers for the actions of a few, but this is why writers stop writing. It's mentally draining.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy the next installment of this series. And BOLO for the remaining chapters in the coming days.  
> Slainte!

A few painful heartbeats passed between the three occupants in Lallybroch’s sitting parlor. Jamie looked from Claire to Mr. Willoughby, then back again.

Desperate to dispel the tension in the room, he said, “why don’t we start wi’ the good news fer now, aye?”

“I was going to anyway,” Willoughby agreed. “Miss MacKenzie was found to be doing some very suspicious things in our search to discover why she went through the trouble of having you arrested for a crime you did not commit. In order for her to be able to find out where Miss Beauchamp lived, she did indeed break privacy laws, very serious indeed. But, she also made a mess of your clinic’s financial records and insurance claims. Turns out, claims that were successfully processed were not filed correctly, claims that were meant to be processed were missing, and some claims were falsely filed as processed. In short-”

“Fraud,” Jamie and Claire said at the same time. Tension was even more reduced around Jamie’s breathing space, evident to the deep breath he took in response to Claire’s small grin.

“Precisely. In accordance with the laws at my disposal to enforce, and in addition to the false police report filing, the young Miss MacKenzie has been arrested as of last night. I don’t think you will have to worry about her causing anymore trouble on either of your behalf.”

Jamie breathed another sigh of relief, but Claire did nothing.

“You said you had some bad news for me?” Claire said bluntly.

The detective’s face felled a bit. “I am afraid so. It has to do with...a patient of yours...one that sadly passed on...”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked, and Jamie could feel the trepidation in her tone. No...

“A subpoena came through my office late last night. It wouldn’t have even been anywhere near my side of the police station had I not been working with you directly on behalf of Mr. Fraser here,” Detective Willoughby reached into a leather bag and retrieved what looked like an official-looking document.

Jamie watched as the detective handed it to Claire. He could see her hands shaking, and if he looked hard enough, he could see the pulse beat hammering in her throat. He didn’t blame her for being nervous. By now, both of them surely just wanted to move on with their lives.

But things never were that simple.

Claire’s eyes grew wide as she read, and re-read, the document in her hand.

“What is it, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, almost regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“I...” she began.

“Ye can speak freely here, Claire. Dinna fash about anyone judgin’ ye.”

“I...” she stood up abruptly. “I need some air.”

And without another word, she left the parlor and headed outside.

Jamie and Mr. Willoughby just sat there in silence. Eventually, Jenny and Ian come into the room. Jamie stands up to greet them.

“Jenny, Ian, this is Detective Yi Tien Willoughby. He’s the one who helped me and Claire out.” Jamie gestures towards, in his eyes, the galant Chinese hero so they can all get acquainted. Ian and Jenny both shake his hand.

“Please tae meet ye, sir,” Jenny said.

“The pleasure is all mine, madam,” Willoughby smiles, “but I really must be going. I just wanted tae drop off the news for you. If, erm...if Miss Beauchamp needs anything, please tell her not to hesitate to contact my office.”

“I will indeed,” Jamie assured him as he led him towards the front door. “Thank ye again, sir. Truly.”

The detective nodded his head in acknowledgement, and left.

“What’s goin’ on, _a bhalaich?_ ” Ian asked.

As Jamie filled Ian in on what went down with Laoghaire, Jenny slipped out to go find Claire.

Sitting on the old apple tree stump just outside Lallybroch’s courtyard path, sat a teary-eyed Claire, whatever papers she had had in her hands was sitting beside her feet in the grass.

“A shilling fer yer thoughts?” Jenny called out to her wryly. Claire jumped slightly, then smiled at the shorter woman coming towards her.

“Just a shilling?” Claire quipped. “I figured what I had to say on this matter would be worth a quid or two at least.”

Both women shared a laugh. Claire moved over so the two of them could share the stump.

“What troubles ye so, Claire?” Jenny finally asked after a few moments of terse silence. The wind quietly whistled among them, causing the nearby trees to sing to the Earth’s tune.

“I’m...I’m being sued...” Claire finally spat out, and she leaned down to pick up the paper to hand to Jamie’s sister.

Skimming through it, Jenny’s brown eyes widen the longer she stared at the paper. Then, she began to read it aloud.

“Yer hereby summoned tae court on the...” she trailed off to skim through it, “on the premise of wrongful death?!” Jenny looked up in astonishment. “They’re tryin’ tae suggest ye killed someone?”

“Well, in a way...they’re not wrong...” Claire tried to leave the statement at that, but if Jenny was anything like her brother, it wouldn’t do. She sighed, and said, “earlier this year, I was in a car crash. I was fine for the most part, but I was ordered to see a chiropractor. That’s actually how I met Jamie.”

“I kent as much,” Jenny smiled. The look on her face somehow warmed Claire to the bone. “Go on, then.”

“The man who hit me...his name was Frank Randall...well, he was in another crash a few months after that...we did all we could, but...”

Claire went silent, contemplating the events of that day.

And the events of that night.

Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and it had nothing to do with the cold air outside.

“Was he drunk?” Jenny asked.

“Very.” Claire confirmed. “And the accident only involved him, but… I was angry about what he did to my car...and especially angry at how he made it appear to be my fault, but... I never wanted him dead.”

“Aye, o’ course ye didna! No decent human bein’, let alone a nurse, would ever wish death upon anyone. The Lord is merciful and fergives, and ye should too. Which I’m sure ye already have, aye?”

Claire thought about it for a moment before saying, “I don’t know if I have. But I certainly stop being angry about it long before he died...”

Jenny put her hands over Claire’s, small but very warm. Both in comfort and in feeling.

“Dinna fash yerself about it, dear. All will be weel in the end. Ye’ll see. And...” she stole a quick glance towards the house. “If ye keep my brother around long enough, he’ll make ye see it too.”

\---

With the conversation I had with Jenny outside the house that night, it was no wonder we became instant friends. The two of us were of a like mind. We were both firm in our beliefs, and didn’t let anyone tell us otherwise. Maybe that’s why Jamie had taken such a liking to me. I reminded him of his sister. Or, maybe I reminded him of his late mother, Ellen. Perhaps that’s where Jenny got it from.

New friendships aside, the court date loomed over my head like a dark cloud during a never ending storm.

I couldn’t believe it when I first read the summons. Apparently Frank’s surviving relatives, a sister and brother in law respectfully, somehow believed that I was directly responsible for his death. It didn’t mention anyone else in the lawsuit and summons paperwork. Not the hospital, certainly not Joe, who was the attending emergency physician on duty that day, nor any other staff members or my colleagues who were present during that attempted revival.

It was just me.

_Why?_

“It is daft at best, and stupid at worst!” Robert said angrily over our lunch break at A&E a week later. 

Much to Jamie’s dismay and reluctance, I returned to work to try and resume some semblance of a normal life, but agreed to stay with him and his family at Lallybroch. Jenny had offered to go to my flat and pick up some of my things, but I declined for the time being. While I was thankful to have his sister’s blessing to be in Jamie’s company at their home, I was still hesitant to take our “friendship” any further. The two of us had yet to even discuss how we left things off before the whole Laoghaire incident. And I didn’t want to lead Jamie on in any way.

Robert and I were in the presence of Louise, Mary and Geillis. Joe had the day off. God only knew what he would have to say when he heard the news.

“It’ll get thrown out for sure!” Louise piped up in between bites of apple smeared with cottage cheese. She always had peculiar tastes for snacks. “All documentation stated there was no fault in any intervention of any emergency personnel, be it paramedics or us A&E staff.”

“I ag-gree,” Mary, stuttery as ever, provided with a smile at me. “It can be daunting, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it, C-Claire.”

“What the wee one said!” Geillis patted me on the back, her fair face split wide with a glistening smile. “Dinna fash, hen. Most people who file a wrongful death suit are either just in utter grief and want someone tae pay, or...they just want someone tae pay. If ye get my meanin’.”

“I do,” I assured her. “Thank you all for your support. It means a lot.”

“What else are friends for, _cherie?_ ” Louise contended.

“Mary and I can testify as witnesses, if ye like,” Geillis suggested.

“That would be good, considering you two were there with me. It...it just doesn’t seem right that I am being singled out in this suit, when there was a whole team working alongside me.”

“Probably has to do with the accident months prior.” We all turned towards the entrance to the breakroom to see Dr. Joe Abernathy standing there, a crisp, green apple with a bite along its side in his hands. “They had to have known it was you that he hit. But, like everyone else has said, I wouldn’t worry about it. Get yourself a good lawyer and I imagine you’ll be on your way back to freedom by that afternoon.”

He was right. I knew he was. I knew they all were. But something still didn’t add up.

And I wasn’t going to rest tonight until I found the best defense lawyer Scotland had to offer.


	12. Part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hearing comes and goes before Claire and Jamie can even blink. But will any victory from it be enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Please respect that I have comments closed on this series and stop leaving comments about it on my other works. I'm not even reading them, they're being deleted. If you feel inclined to leave feedback, please visit me on tumblr or twitter @/lallybrochloser 
> 
> I was originally gonna play out the full trial/hearing thing in great detail, but in the end I chose a more minimalistic approach. Y’all know my legalese is utter garbage anyway xD

“Ned Gowan?” I asked Jamie the following morning over breakfast. Joe was kind enough to give me the rest of the week off in anticipation for the hearing.

“Aye,” Jamie said happily in his bowl of parritch. “Ye canna go wrong wi’ Ned. He’s been our family lawyer fer years. Granted, we havena had need fer him since my parents’ passin’, only tae get their wills sorted out, but aye. I can ring him fer ye if ye like, Sassenach.”

“That would be wonderful, actually. Thank you, Jamie.” I returned his smile with a grin of my own.

He reached over and placed his hand over mine in comfort. It was large and warm, and I longed to sit here all day, just holding his hands in mine. I quickly brushed those thought away though.

“Dinna fash, Claire. Like Jenny told ye, all will be weel. I canna imagine this trial going any further than today. Even wi’out Ned’s help.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I replied without much heart, knowing he was. But besides the physical comfort of his hand embracing mine, I felt nothing else.

Two hours later, Jamie and I were sitting at the kitchen table in the presence of one Ned Gowan, attorney extraordinaire. Or so Jamie, Jenny, and Ian told me. Jamie told me the story of how when his parents were set to marry, his uncles on his mother’s side, Dougal and Colum MacKenzie, tried to have her inheritance legally taken away on the grounds of-

“Mental incompetence?!” I gapped at Jamie. But it was Ned who answered.

“Oh aye, ‘twas indeed,” Ned said, a cheery smile on his face. He had longish graying hair that was brushed and tied neatly at the nape of his neck, and bifocal glasses that shaped his round face rather nicely. “They made the most ridiculous claim that Ellen MacKenzie couldna be competent if she were, oh what did they say, ‘ wishin tae be marrit to anyone of the Fraser o’ Lovat bloodline!’ Naturally, this was thrown out without another word.”

“I would hope so,” I surmised, causing both Jamie and Ned to share a humoured grin. 

“So, Miss Beauchamp,” Ned said finally, “Jamie tells me ye have been identified as a defendant in a wrongful death suit, am I correct?”

I nodded, and proceeded to divulge all that happened that night in the emergency department. I told him about how I even knew Frank Randall in the first place, and voiced my concerns not only over being the only one named in the suit, despite working with multiple people in a rather large NHS hospital, but that I felt they were using the original accident he had caused against me.

After I was done, I excused myself to go get a glass of water. It wasn’t long before Jamie was standing right behind me. 

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?”

“Yes, it’s just,” I paused to drink, “it’s hard to talk about even to someone as seemingly trustworthy as Ned is. Or even you, for that matter. How am I going to remain calm and collected when the Randalls’ lawyer is questioning me on the stand?”

“Dinna fash, _a ghràidh,_ ” Jamie assured me. “I dinna ken if ye saw, but the look on Ned’s face screamed an easy win fer ye. I’ve seen that look in the auld man’s eyes ‘afore. He’s never looked that way starin’ down the barrel o’ a case he couldna secure victory.”

“It still makes me nervous. Despite knowing the accident all those months ago wasn’t my fault, with the insurance company backing me up, and knowing Frank was dead long before he was brought into A&E. I still feel like I’m...I don’t know, _supposed_ to feel guilty.”

“Aye, ‘tis no’ an easy thing. But as I said, and as Jenny said, all will be well. Believe in that, wi’ all yer heart, and a week from now ye’ll be laughin’ at yer own concerns.”

The smile on Jamie’s face lit the room, almost to cast out the darkness circling my own mind. I couldn’t help but smile in return. How did he do that? How could something as simple as a smile instantly wash away all my troubles? Maybe it was just Jamie being Jamie. Maybe that was his true talent.

“Come along now, Sassenach. Ned awaits us.”

\---

I felt a little better after our meeting with Ned. He assured me that this case would not go as far as that day, given there was absolutely no evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, to prove I was directly or indirectly responsible for Frank’s death. According to the subpoena, it didn’t specify the reasons why I was being sued. Or at least, in any directly, plain English was.

_“Saving yer presence on legal jargon that I myself find mundanely annoying, it appears they’re filing this motion on the grounds of emotional distress rather than any actions you may or may not have taken. Without outright speculating, it could be sound to assume they’re only interested in capitalizing on their brother’s demise. Either way, no matter what, they clearly aren’t bringing a tall enough chair to the trial to stand on.”_

That release of guilt I felt that evening came bubbling back up to the surface the morning of the trial three days later. I don’t know how Ned managed to pull together every he needed for my defence, but he did. Jamie was sitting just behind us, and beside him was Mary, Louise, Rob, and Joe. Mary was nervously biting her nails, Joe and Jamie had the most burning scowls on their faces aimed for the back of the Randalls’ and their lawyers’ heads, all while Louise and Rob appeared as if they were offended by not being accused of the same crimes that I was.

It turned out Ned didn’t really need much in the way of defending my innocence; this hearing was a preliminary one, only meant to determine if there was enough of a case for it to proceed to a full blown trial. I guess this was why I decided to become a nurse rather than a lawyer or even a paralegal.

The Randalls’ lawyer presented the magistrate with the premise of the case, claiming I was a vile monster disguised as an innocent, do-gooder nurse who purposefully killed Frank Randall out of vengeance for the accident he had caused two months prior. Or, something like that, if his tone of voice was any indication. 

Ned Gowan, on the other side of the room, my knight in a dull but immaculately clean gray suit, countered this “preposterous accusation” with actual evidence. The coroner’s report was presented to the magistrate, which showed the coroner’s official ruling to be “accidental misadventure secondary to alcohol intoxication.”

All in all, an accident. With no one to blame but the decedent himself. Though no one dared to speak _that_ statement aloud. 

Within a matter of hours, I was still the same free woman I was when I walked into the courtroom, the magistrate declaring that this was a case of a “mistaken placement of negative emotions” and nothing more; certainly not worth the court system’s time or money, and formally dismissed the motion for trial. 

The judge even made a point to not only dress down the Randalls for taking up his time, but he also apologised to me directly for “disturbing my work day.”

_“It seems to be that you, the Randalls, had no other intention but to take advantage of your brother’s death as a means to settle his debts. An admirable undertaking, but I must strongly advise you to think next time before you exploit the dignity, work ethic, and integrity of an innocent woman whose only crime was not being able to travel through time to prevent the accident from happening in the first place. And to you, Miss Beauchamp, please do accept my gratitude for your services to the NHS and this fine country, on behalf of this magistrate of course. You are free to go. Next case, present!”_

Jamie was smiling ear to ear, and he had a firm grip on my hand as we walked away from the courthouse. We had already said goodbye to my colleagues from the hospital, and declined Ned’s invitation to a celebratory round at the pub.

“I told ye, Sassenach, ye didna have anything tae worry about, aye?”

“Yes, you did,” I replied absentmindedly. I didn’t know why my mind was so out of sorts in that moment. I should have been happy. Felt...something like relief, maybe?

But I didn’t. I felt numb.

“Tell me yer troubles, _mo nighean donn._ ” Jamie had stopped walking in order to face me. He took my face into his hands, cradling it as if it were made of the finest and most fragile porcelain. I know he didn’t think of me as such, but in that moment, his tenderness felt as solid as his body.

“I...” 

Hell with it.

“I feel like coming to Scotland was all a mistake. I should have never left England. Maybe...maybe it’s time for me to go back.”


	13. Part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Claire’s shocking confession, Jamie now has a choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! Thanks for your love once again!
> 
> FRIENDLY YET STERN REMINDER TO PLEASE RESPECT THE COMMENTS SECTION BEING CLOSED. ALL COMMENTS ABOUT ADJUSTMENT POSTED ELSEWHERE WILL BE DELETED.

Jamie said nothing as he pulled me towards the car park. He went about unlocking the passenger side door for me, kindly gesturing for me to get in, and even closed the door for me before slipping behind the steering wheel to drive us back to Lallybroch. But he didn’t speak a word to me the entire time.

Silence followed us and remained in the car like an ominous storm just above the horizon, enveloping my heart. While Jamie didn’t appear to be angry or upset, he didn’t appear to be happy about my declaration either. Of course, he was a walking, talking mask sometimes; if there was one thing I had learned about Dr. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, MD., it was that he was very good at hiding how he truly felt from his face. Stoic as a statue, he maintained an air or total neutrality. He didn’t touched the dials on the in-dash radio, didn’t roll down the window like he preferred when driving through the backroads of the Scottish Highlands, but he also didn’t let go of my hand except to change gears when needed.

At the same time, my cowardice prevented me from breaking the silence myself. Had I upset him that badly? Was he starting to regret ever knowing me, ever accepting me as his patient? Or was his merely thinking with a blank expression on his face, mastering his feeling and reigning in his words before properly speaking?

What if he told me he wanted me to go? That we were truly and officially done? I didn’t have to worry about being homeless, fortunately. Despite not being there for the last month, I still had my flat. I had gone through the trouble of setting up with a maid service to come in once a week to clean, dust, and maintain the general cleanliness of the apartment. So, at the very least, if I was to go home without Jamie’s claim on me, my flat wouldn’t smell like nobody lived there.

We arrived back at Lallybroch an hour after leaving the courthouse; neither Jamie nor I had spoken still. I saw Jamie give Jenny a curt nod before making his way towards his bedroom. I followed suit.

The door closed, I decided I was tired of the silence between us, and broke it.

“Jamie?”

He was standing with his back towards me, leaning one arm against the large bay window. As I walked towards him, I noticed his shoulders were shaking. I heard a small sniffle.

He was crying.

“Jamie?!” I turned him around with force so he was facing me. My heart dropped instantly.

“Claire,” he whimpered in a small tone. Before I could respond, his arms went around me like a vice grip, pinning me where I stood. He bound me to him so tightly, I could feel his heart thrumming out a rapid staccato against my sternum. I taste salty wetness as silent tears rained against my face and mouth.

I couldn’t do anything more than wrap my arms around him in response, and pray I didn’t start crying too.

“Tell me your troubles, Jamie,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

“Are ye?” He said into my hair.

I forced myself to look at him despite the awkward position he had me in, but said nothing.

“Ye say ye regret comin’ to Scotland, and that ye should go back to where ye came from...are ye really here?”

He had me there. But I compelled the words from my brain and out my mouth. “Ever since I arrived here, nothing but bad things have happened. First the accident with Frank, his death. then everything with Laoghaire, your subsequent imprisonment...none of this would have happened if I had just stayed where I belonged. A Sassenach doesn’t belong in the Highlands...”

I faltered, and began to cry.

“Claire...mo ghràidh...mo chridhe...mo nighean donn...the only reason I am still practicing medicine, practicing my trade and skills...and no’ rottin’ away in a prison on false charges...is because of you.”

I sniffed and looked back up at him. Despite the tears running down his face and the slight gathering of clear snot around the stubble growth at his nostrils, he was smiling.

“Before ye showed up as a new patient, business was alright. I was able tae maintain the upkeep o’ the building space, and I had a full schedule every week of recurrin’ patients...but it wasna enough fer me tae move out of Lallybroch and find my own place...Truth be told, I had no desire to leave...I was content wi’ life under my sister’s rule. And her bairns are great company…

“But you, mo nighean donn… ye gave me something tae look forward to. Ye made me wanna be something greater than I already was. Ye gave me the motivation needed tae stop being a bachelor fer the rest o’ my livin’ days! Every time I saw ye, I couldna help but imagine how lives together. A place o’ our own. Our bairns runnin’ around…

“I ken it sounds daft, but...Claire...I love ye.”

I blinked, and my heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

His smile brightened as it widened. “Aye. I loved ye almost since the first moment I saw ye. I wanted ye even more than that...but when ye fell into my arms that first visit...and I held yer wee arm in my hands as I took yer blood pressure...I knew it. There could be no other fer me.

“Because of yer quick thinkin’, action, and determination tae set an innocent man free, I am able tae continue workin’ as a doctor. Ye inspire me every day, Sassenach. Yer my first thought when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I smile about ‘afore I fall asleep at night. I canna go on wi’out ye. I love you. Wi’ all my heart.”

I had started crying again, and I didn’t realize that I was until Jamie reached up to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. But in that moment, I realized I wasn’t sad. Or upset, or even angry.

This was the happiest I had been in a very long time.

In his arms, held tight against his heart and soul, I finally felt like I actually belonged here. Actually, now that I thought about it, I always did belong...it just took something extra.

It took Jamie.

He leaned down and kissed me, tender as warm milk. He cupped my face into those large, warm hands of his, as if my face was his heart, and my soul his very will to live. I kissed him back, enveloping all my senses with the essence of James Fraser.

I think I knew it all along my true feelings for him. Before the incident with Laoghaire, I was the same way. Jamie was the first thing I thought about in the morning, and the last thing I thought of at night, with his handsome face, strong body, and impossibly red curly hair taking up residence in my head rent-free.

I placed my hands across his broad chest, as if it will his heart to slow down, and looked him directly in the eyes. Almost so he could see what was in my heart at that moment.

“I love you too, Jamie.”

He hoisted me up into the air like I weighed no more than a ragdoll, and swung me around, the giggles erupting from my person echoing off the walls and filling the empty space in the room.

“I canna wait any longer then, Sassenach. I want ye. And I want ye in the most proper way I can think of. Will ye have me fer life? Will ye marry me? Make me the happiest man in the world, and do me the honour of becomin’ my wife?”

He didn’t get down on one knee, and he didn’t need to. Hell, he didn’t even need a ring. I wasn’t one for materialistic things in any case, with my job getting gory sometimes. But in that moment, just the two of us, it could not have been more perfect.

“Yes. Bloody Christ, yes I’ll marry you, James Fraser!”

Another kiss, this time with more passion from the two of us, and we decided to go announce the news to everyone in the house.

However, when Jamie opened the door, he bumped right into Jenny and Ian, who apparently were trying to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping and move out of the way of the door. All three of them fell to the ground in a mix of English and Gàidhlig curses.

Collecting themselves, Jamie gave them a stern glare. But it didn’t last long.

“So,” Ian finally said nonchalantly. “When’s the weddin’?”

“Well, we don’t know yet,” I answered coolly, “considering we’ve only been engaged for about thirty seconds.”

“Just so ye know, Claire,” Jenny said to me, a coquettish grin on her face, “I’m a wicked fiend wi’ a sewin’ machine. If ye need a dress mended...”

I smiled and took the smaller Fraser into my arms in a loving, sisterly embrace. I never had siblings before.

Perhaps this was the start of a whole new life.

And for once, I couldn’t wait for it to begin.


	14. Finale

“Happy anniversary, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered to Claire, handing her the squirming swaddled, bundle in his arms.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” Claire smiled and accepted his kiss. She looked down at the bundle. “And hello to you, my little love.”

The wee lass in her arms hiccuped and cooed as Jamie sat down beside her on the sofa. He watched with mesmerized fasication as she undid her top to nurse.

Two years. It had been two years to the day since they wed. The Frasers had seen their fair share of ups and downs in that two year period.

\---

They had wasted almost no time with marrying. Neither Jamie nor Claire cared for a large, church wedding or anything elaborate and fancy. The priest from Broch Mordha came down to Lallybroch to perform the ceremony. Claire borrowed a mended cream colored dress from Jenny, picking a small array of flowers from Ellen’s garden, while Jamie wore his best kilt for the occasion.

He secretly wished he could be marrying Claire in a place more grand than his childhood home, but the look on Claire’s face when she walked down the aisle towards him shut those thoughts up immediately. It helped that some of Claire’s work colleagues were there, the big French orthopaedic doctor Rob walking her down the aisle. Jenny, Ian, their bairns, Murtagh, Dougal, Mrs. Fits, Rupert and Angus from Leoch’s were in attendance as well.

The two newlyweds developed a routine in the months that followed their wedding. Claire went back to working day shifts with all her friends at A&E, and between her, Joe and Rob, Jamie’s chiropractic clinic saw an influx of patients. So much so, that Jamie ended up hiring two receptionists and a second chiropractor to help.

“Married life suiting you, Dr. Fraser?” Dr. John Grey asked after the clinic as closed one night.

“Aye, ‘tis indeed, Dr. Grey.” Jamie smiled as the two men clinked their tea cups together. “Sláinte mhath!”

“To your health as well, Jamie.”

“And what about yourself?” Jamie inquired. “Yer own husband keepin’ ye busy at home?”

John laughed. His husband Hector Dunsany-Gray had been a patient of Jamie’s and noticed the “HELP WANTED” sign as he left. After an hour of speaking with Jamie, with John on speakerphone, Jamie had insisted on meeting the man in person.

The two chiropractors worked well together. Hector agreed that he would seek chiropractic service elsewhere as he did not want to compromise his husband’s work integrity.

“That reminds me,” John said. “When is Claire due again?”

Jamie’s mood soured instantly, making him want to cry.

“She, erm...she gave birth last week...” Jamie said so softly John almost didn’t hear him.

“Oh well, congratulations are in order then, yes?” John said, expecting Jamie to stand up and start smiling. But without Jamie saying anything, he knew. He knew all too well.

“I wish it were so, my friend...she...it...”

John filled in the gap. “Stillbirth?”

A tear snaked its way down Jamie’s face as the memory of his firstborn child’s ultimate demise.

_He never should have left his phone on silent in his office. If he had had it on him, even on vibrate, he would have gotten the call in time._

_By the time he made it to A &E, where Claire worked, it was all over, and there was nothing he could do about it._

_Claire sat in the hospital bed, holding a bundle in her arms that was too pale to be living._

_His heart dropped when he approached the bed to find his wife was just as pale as the dead infant in her arms._

_“Sassenach,” was all he could breathe without bursting into tears._

_She barely recognized him. His heart stuttered in his chest as Claire looked up at him, eyes lined with the dark shadows with shock and disbelief. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”_

_Joe did warn Jamie before he went in that Claire wasn’t the most coherent at the moment. She had lost a lot of blood during the birth._

_“Aye,” he whispered, so softly he wasn’t sure he’d been heard._

_“Look Jamie,” she removed some of the swaddling around the infant. He wanted to vomit at the sight of his child, their child, slowly starting to decay before their eyes. This didn’t seem to bother Claire in the slightest as she all but forced Jamie to hold his daughter. “Ten fingers...ten toes...counted them myself. Isn’t she the loveliest, darling?”_

_Jamie could feel the dam breaking within him as the light weight of his baby squeezed what little life he had left in him today. “She’s an angel, mo nighean donn.”_

_There was a knock at the door, and Louise came in._

_“Belle comme sa mère,” Louise said, and Jamie nodded. The woman approached Jamie from behind and held out her arms. “May I hold her please?”_

_That seemed to snap Claire out of the haze of delirium. She looked up at her colleague and trusted friend, as if she didn’t understand English in that moment. Jamie gave one final nod and kissed the wee lassie on the forehead, knowing it would be his only chance._

_“C'est l'heure,” was all Louise said before Jamie placed the infant in her arms. But before she left, she looked at both of them. “What would you like to name her?”_

_Claire didn’t say anything, too caught up in her own thoughts to speak. Jamie, however, knew exactly what to say._

_“Faith.” Jamie mustered up a brave face and said, “Faith. Julia. Fraser. Because I have to believe that God is merciful. And that we will someday be blessed with another bairn.”_

Jamie could see a tear falling down John’s own face at the story of their child, born sleeping.

“Faith,” John repeated. “A fitting name, if you’ll permit me to say.”

“Aye,” was all Jamie said before getting up to gather his things. “Claire was given the standard maternity leave, so she willna be back at hospital fer another two months. I must away out to be wi’ her.”

“Jamie, are you sure you don’t want to take some time off yourself? As the father, you are entitled to two months of paid paternity leave.”

Jamie thought about it, again. This probably made it the fourth or fifth time he had thought about being by Claire’s side during what was supposed to be a joyous celebration of life. But he said nothing, and left.

Later that night, John would get a phone call from Jamie asking to take over the business for the next two months. John didn’t need to say anything in response, only making a mental note to file the paternity leave paperwork on Jamie’s behalf.

Two weeks later, Jamie and Claire were sitting beside a semi-fresh disturbed in the Fraser family cemetery behind Lallybroch. Today had been the day that Faith’s headstone was delivered. It was a simple slab of granite.

_Faith Julia Fraser  
Born An Angel   
1 Corinthians 2:5_

“It’s perfect,” Claire had said, running a hand over the smooth expanse of stone forever memorializing their daughter.

“Aye,” was all Jamie responded.

“You were right to name her like this, you know.” 

That caused Jamie to look up at her, and the mental haze of dark clouds that represented the day Faith was placed in his arms cleared away like the sun was visiting Scotland for the first time in her existence.

“What d’ye mean, Sassenach?”

Claire just smiled. “Faith. I may have not said anything, but I was listening. You have Faith that God is merciful, and that one day we may be blessed with another one. It’s taken me some time, but I now believe that too. It won’t be easy, and I still have a lot of healing to do, both physically and spiritually, but...”

She intertwined her hands into his, relishing in their consistent feeling of warmth and safety. The only hands in the world that could ever make her feel safe.

“One day...we may have another child.”

A few months after their first wedding anniversary, that blessing was cashed in. Two little pink lines stared back at Claire in the bathroom of their flat. Jamie was at work and she had the day off, but she couldn’t very well call him with _this_ kind of news!

So she made a mad dash to the market to pick up supplies to wrap the little pregnancy test in a box with a pretty bow.

The tears, shouts of joy, and dancing the Frasers did in celebration of expecting another child was bittersweet, but welcomed. Keeping Faith in their minds and hearts this whole time made it worth it.

The pregnancy ended up being much harder on Claire than she ever dealt with during Faith’s pregnancy. Jamie and Claire were rewarded for their hard work and patience with the shrilling screeches of a healthy set of lungs, belonging to a tiny, red haired lass.

Another one.

“She has your hair, Da,” Claire had said, sweat soaked, messy haired, and teary eyed but radiant as ever.

“Like her sister...” Jamie said, but without any sadness. Claire knew it too. Neither of them were sad about their loss of Faith anymore. It was acknowledged as a sad time in their lives, but now they could use that loss to help them celebrate the birth of their second daughter.

“She’s absolutely beautiful, Jamie,” Claire whispered as Jamie leaned in to kiss the newborn’s forehead.

“Would ye like tae name her, Sassenach?” Jamie asked.

She looked down at the infant, and knew exactly what to do.

“Brianna.”

“Brianna?”

“After your father. Brian.”

Jamie’s tears were flowing now, and he suddenly wished his father were here to witness his own fatherhood coming to fruition.

“And yer middle name? I hope ye dinna plan on given’ her three o’ them like me.”

Claire laughed. “No...just one.”

\---

Brianna Ellen Fraser was just finishing up her evening meal as Jamie handed his wife a wine glass filled with ginger ale, while he nursed a whisky in the other hand.

“Here’s tae a long life, and a merry one-”

“A quick death, and an easy one-”

“A pretty girl, and an honest one-” Jamie’s failed attempt at a wink just made Claire laugh through the next line.

“A stiff whisky-” she gulped her ginger ale down in one slide, “and another one.”

_“Sláinte mhath!”_ Jamie down his whisky in one gulp, and kissed his girls.

Claire spent the rest of the night reflecting on all that had happened to her since moving to Scotland. She really did belong here in the end.

She just needed a few adjustments to fit in.

##  _**F I N** _


End file.
